


Golden Threads and New Beginnings

by Findecutie, MayGlenn



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-04-23 08:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findecutie/pseuds/Findecutie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros is finally re-embodied and returned to Valinor from the Halls of Mandos and finds that his husband is missing. When he finally locates him, Fingon is sitting beside the lake in their valley looking at his reflection and plaiting, loosening, and replaiting his hair with the golden threads Maedhros made him. Maedhros watches him, realizing that Fingon never looks directly at his reflection. The only thing he's watching is his hair, which he's putting up in different plaits that his lover used to do for him. Then undoing, and repeating and undoing again, imagining the way Russ' hands used to feel in his hair and almost believing he can sense him nearby.</p><p>(This story takes place in a future AU of our Russ and Finno Verse.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started when I gave MayGlenn the following headcanon:
> 
>  
> 
> _Headcanon: at some point in Beleriand Fingon is unable to wear the golden threads Russ gave him. Does this stop Finno? Nope. He dies sections of a few hairs each to be gold/blonde so that he has a version of Russ' gift that can't be lost or stolen. Before battle if he can't wear the threads he always makes sure his hair is dyed and is plaited so that it looks like it has golden threads running through it._
> 
>  
> 
> _Special bonus: Finno isn't there when Russ gets re-embodied. When Russ finds him he's sitting in front of a mirror, or at a lake looking at his reflection and plaiting, undoing, and replaiting his hair with gold thread. Russ watches for a few minutes and notices that Fingon never looks directly at his reflection. The only thing he's watching is his hair, which he's putting up in different plaits that his husband used to do for him. Then undoing, and repeating and undoing again, imagining the way Russ' hands used to feel in his hair._

Fingon's eyes drift shut without his knowledge, and his hands fall to his sides as he focuses on the phantom traces of his husband's fingers in his hair. He can almost imagine he smells Russ, almost feels his warmth solid and sure behind him. And Fingon knows something is terribly broken in him, he knows he should open his eyes and stop imagining things that cannot be. But he thinks he would rather sit like this forever; if this is the closest he can get to Russandol he'll take it and cherish it and never let it go. He sits as still as he can, afraid to break the dream, and smiles faintly as a tear rolls down his cheek. “Russandol.” The name leaves his lips with the softest whisper. “Tenn’ ambar-metta, Russ.”

Maedhros isn't sure he's not dreaming, too, because Fingon, his Findekáno, is there, under his hand, under his hands, his _hands,_ and he feels and smells so real and there were no dreams in the Everlasting Darkness--

"Don't cry, Findekáno," he whispers, even though he is crying, too, and kisses the tear away, kneeling in front of him. "I'm here."

Fingon's breath hitched, and his wet lashes fluttered before he closed them firmly again. "Venno," he whispered brokenly, a hand tracing his cheek where he could swear he’d just felt his husband's lips. He started to reach out, but paused, hand hanging in the air a moment before dropping. "I wish you were here. I _need_ you, Russ…I--” His head fell and he hunched over as he stopped trying to stop his tears. "You promised you wouldn't leave. Forever-- that's what we vowed on our bonding night. To Eru we swore it long before the other Oath... I miss you. I love you." He shook his head, tears falling from his chin to water the earth below. "Oh, I _love_ you, Russ. Please lead me to you… or please come home.”

"I'm home," Maedhros sobbed--too loud, the sound of his voice hurting his own ears, and he snatched up Fingon's hand and pressed his cheek into his palm. "I'm here. Findekáno, I--" he choked on a sob, "and I'm never leaving you again. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Fin, I'm here." He was already reaching up Fingon's arm to get a hold of the rest of him, to crush him into a hug, into part of his own body. "Are you real?" he whispered. He had forgotten what real felt like, how to tell.

"Venno!" Fingon choked out the word. It was too much, too real for his confused senses, and his eyes flew open. He clutched at Maedhros desperately, burying his face in the warm, real, _there_ crook of Maedhros' neck. "Oh, Eru! Russ. Vennonya. My Russandol." He shook his head, tangling a hand in Maedhros hair while the other clung to his back for a long moment. Then his eyes widened further as he realized what he was feeling, and he pulled his upper body back far enough to grab and Maedhros' shoulders and slide his hands down his husband's arm. "Russ?" He drew his right arm forward, both hands moving to clutch at the perfectly formed, unmarred, unmaimed flesh. He smiled blearily, lacking words, and brought the hand to his mouth, laying kiss after kiss upon it and never wanting to risk _not_ having Maedhros’ hand between them, safe and protected where it couldn't be harmed. _Venno_!

Hearing Fingon's first words echoing around in his head was like being born again. He was born again, only--only that was the hard part, and this was the good part. Findekáno! Findekáno! he answered him, holding him, wrapping arms and legs around him (two of each of them), wrenching Fingon to the earth and laughing as they rolled in the grass, almost falling into the lake. "Findekáno! Findekáno am I--are you real? Are we--where are we?" but he had already decided he didn't care. "Findekáno! Vennonya!" And then their lips were together and this, _this_ he remembered.

"Home." The word sang through Fingon's mind and body, racing across their bond and expanding to encompass them, hröar and fëar. "Vennonya, you're _home_." He squeezed Maedhros tightly, terrified he might dissolve into smoke. But Maedhros was warm and heavy and perfect over him, and he could feel his husband's heartbeat through the shirt he was wearing. "I've been lost, Russ. It was a second Darkening, to be taken from the Halls and placed back in Aman without you. I would have waited-- I would have... I didn't know where you were or how to find you. I've been so lost-- missing the best part of me. My Russ. My husband. You came back-- you came home!" He laughed suddenly, flipping Maedhros over and straddling him, leaning down to brush their lips together chastely and then fervently. I love you, he sang across their bond. _I love you_ , and _Russ_ , for those were the only words that mattered.

"Fin! Fin, Finfinfinfin," Maedhros sobbed, kissing and hugging Fingon. "My love. My love. I'm sorry, so sorry, I'll never leave you again. P-please don't leave me." He squeezed Fingon ever tighter.

"Never, never, never, never." So sorry. So sorry, my Russ. I never meant to leave you. I'd follow you anywhere. Fingon managed to sneak a hand under Maedhros' shirt, sighing at the smooth skin below, unmarred and feeling very young. "We've both been reborn." He grinned. "You feel like you did when we were first married. When we were making love by a lake filled with stars, climbing mountains and diving into the water just because we could. I've missed that so. I can't believe you're here, Russandol. I need never ask for anything again-- not with you home, not when I'm in your arms. I never want to let you go. Yours, Russ. Tenn' ambar-metta. I am yours, as you are mine."

"Never let you go, never letting you go," Maedhros promised, gasping softly as Fingon touched him. "Oh, Fin, please. I love you. I love you. I need you. I'm sorry." He curled his fingers into Fingon's hair. "I'm so glad," he said, laughing and sobbing as he pulled back to look at him. "You look so--your eyes." They're beautiful.

"And you're perfect." Fingon moaned softly as his husband's fingers carded through his hair. "Russandol?" He lightly brushed his fingers against Maedhros' cheek. "I'm so sorry that I... left-- I didn't mean to, never wanted to. Russ, I was dying and all I could think was that I didn't want to be parted from you. So sorry, my prince. Forgive me?"

Maedhros shook his head, and for a time couldn't speak for the tears. "It's alright, I forgive you, it's alright, it's not your fault. I love you. I love you, and you're here, and I'm here." A fear took him, a wrenching, painful fear, that the Valar might separate them, that he might be taken away from Fingon again, that Fingon might--but he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "I'll not leave you. I can't. Nothing will--nothing could make us." He held Fingon tighter, sure he would bruise.

"Never again," Fingon murmured. I don't care if I bruise, Russ. I just want to feel you. They lay together for a time, crying and talking, reveling in the bond that was open once more. "Mmm. You asked where we were, Russ. It's overgrown, but... don't you recognize it? I... I needed some space, time to myself to think, to-- to try to deal with what happened. But I couldn't. I couldn't _deal_ with losing that which is more dear to me than life. So I came here, away from where those who remain in Aman stay. May I take you home?"

Maedhros reluctantly tore his eyes away from Fingon to look around him, and he burst into tears anew. "We are home," he said. "Already home." No wonder he had come here, to their valley, to the lake with stars and the hot pools and the fresh spring. "Oh, Finno."

Fingon laughed, suddenly, sitting up and urging Maedhros to his feet. "I have a surprise for you, beloved husband. May I show it you? You have to close your eyes and trust me." He squeezed Maedhros, looking up at him and unable to tear his gaze away. I think it will please thee, my dearest prince.

Maedhros let Fingon tug him to his feet. "Just don't let go," he begged, clinging to Fingon with both hands, and closed his eyes, leaving the tears shining on his face.

"I won't," Fingon promised solemnly before smiling widely again. "You're here. You're home. And I never want to again face the world without you." He led Maedhros away from the water towards a field, carefully guiding him across the slightly changed landscape. Here-- just a second. One moment-- here!" He took Maedhros' hand, slipping over to his husband's side and sliding an arm around his waist. Both of their mares had walked over, and he held his husband's hand out to brush the muzzle of the animal that had been with him while they lived together in Aman and which had stayed there, safely waiting in the meadows near their house until Fingon returned and found their loyal mounts. "Just reach out and... open your eyes!"

"Oh!" Maedhros said as something bumped his hand, and his eyes snapped open. "Oh! Oh, my lovelies," he said, dropping all but one hand that still clung to Fingon's fingers, and rubbed behind their ears and kissed their soft noses. "You're still here. I--I'm sorry to you, too," he said, as the mares nickered and blew gusts of breath across his hair. He couldn't remember feeling so alive.

The horses only nuzzled against them and sniffed at Maedhros' clothing. Fingon shifted behind his husband, slipping his arms about Maedhros' waist and hugging him tightly. Standing on his toes he could just see over his husband's shoulders. "I love you. I love you, Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol, prince of my heart and king of my world. And they love you too. And we're all so very glad you're home." He squeezed Maedhros tighter, smiling as his mare leaned forward to brush against him. "And I love you two as well-- you already know that!"

Maedhros covered his mouth, trying not to cry again. "H-how long?" he asked, afraid to know.

Fingon flushed, slumping down somewhat. "Ah... after Beleriand time seems to move much slower here. I don't know how long I wandered in the Halls before I was spat out in Aman, but... it's been quite a while. I-- I didn't do well without you. Especially not hearing what was happening or had happened in the East." His arms clenched around Maedhros as he buries his face against the back of Maedhros' shoulder. You were always the strong one. And I've felt so scared and alone-- scared because of what the Oath might do. Afraid for my cousins and my uncle and my sister-- afraid for my people. Námo couldn't 'cure' me of that.

Maedhros turned around and clasped Fingon in his arms. "Just as they could never 'cure' the bond between us, Findekáno, my love." He took Fingon's hands between both of his and kissed them. "I'm sorry. I don't--I don't remember--much. Not since the fire." He knelt, feeling suddenly weak-kneed. "After you--d-died, it was--it was a blur. A blur, like I wasn't really--and then nothing." It hurts to feel again. It's been so long.

"My love. I've missed hearing you say that. I'm so sorry you were hurt again, Russandol. That sounds horrible. I can't imagine-- you're my everything, too. This was all... so wrong." Fingon sank to his knees, holding Maedhros close and smiling at their mares and the ever loyal pack horse who wandered over. The three animals bracketed the two of them protectively, and Fingon let out a huff of laughter as he grabbed at his husband's shoulders and hair. "Never again, love. You are my world, and no other responsibilities or oaths or tasks shall separate me from you." He kissed Maedhros and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "You're stuck with me forever."

"Th-thank you," Maedhros said, trying to smile, not sure how. "I love you. I can never be parted from you. I can't. I'm sorry I--I'm sorry you were alone. It is the worst thing I have ever experienced. The _worst_ ," and yes, he remembered Angband, "and I am sorry you had to know it for--while I was gone." He kissed Fingon's fingertips, enjoying touching Fingon with his hands, with both of them.

"We're together now. We'll never have to know that again." Fingon felt a rush of love across their bond and returned it in full. "In some ways that hurt the most- having the bond entirely severed. Only... it wasn't changed as though it wasn't there. Instead it felt snapped- something coming out of me that was broken, so that I was well aware I was missing something irreplaceable." He shivered and shook his head. "But now I want to think of good things, happy things. Because my husband is alive and well and," he paused to take Maedhros' hand and kiss it, "whole. Most importantly, he is home. And that's worth celebrating. I have some fish smoking over by our regular camping spot. Would you like to go there?" I also have some apples we can give our friends, but let's keep that a surprise for now!

"Y-yes," Maedhros stammered, nodding and letting Fingon lead him. He was overwhelmed by the rushing of love between them, and could hardly believe that he got an answer when he reached out. He smiled through the tears and held both of Fingon's hands, very interested in how Fingon's skin and hair felt with his right hand.

Fingon squeezed his fingers, unable to stop smiling. "Have I told you how much I love you today, arimeldanya? You are my light, my air, my Treelight and starlight and moonlight and sunlight- my peace and my happiness and most beloved." He leaned in to kiss Maedhros before pulling then toward his camp. "I adore you. I cherish you. I love you before and beyond myself." I'm so glad you're home!

Maedhros smiled in return, kissing and hugging and touching his beloved, his star, his _everything_ \--but the first real whiff of food over the fire had his stomach growling and tightening. He didn't remember food, or eating, but he wanted it _now_. Still, he wouldn't let go of Fingon, but the look in his eyes meant he was hungry. Hungry as he had never felt before, like he had never eaten.

"Come on! You can have as much as you want-- I can always catch more fish! And the raspberries are in season- there's a whole bowl full of them for you." Fingon smiled, pressing his palm flat against Maedhros' stomach as it gurgled. "Is it awkward that I've missed feeling that?" He shook his head. "I've missed everything- the rhythm of your heart, the sound of your breathing, the way your hair tickles me when it's windy out." Rising onto his tiptoes he brushed their lips together before dragging him forward again. "Food, melda Maitimo! Almost there!"

Listening to Fingon's need made his heart ache, and his eyes welled with tears again, but Maedhros nodded and followed, hungry, hungry, hungry. "I've missed--you," he said, lamely, in return. "You. Everything you. Love you." He was thirsty now, too, with an overpowering thirst, though part of him also was surprised he even remembered water. He saw the camp ahead of them, and the smell of food was overpowering now, but even so the landscape before him gave him pause, and it made him somehow impossibly happy (so he was almost scared this was a dream again, one of those vivid dreams early on that seemed so real, before he forgot how to dream). The smells were overwhelming: the smoke and the fish and the water and the grass and trees and _Fingon's hair_... "Please, may we eat now?" he blurted out, like he was still relearning how to talk. He squeezed Fingon's fingers with his own.

A huff of laughter escaped Fingon’s lips as he leaned against Maedhros. “Russ if you asked me to leave Aman, to walk across the Helcaraxë with you, to sail into the void to fight Morgoth himself, I would do so. In this moment I would deny you nothing-- you need but think it and it is yours.” He guided them down to sit and began to put together a plate with his free hand, the fingers of his other hand interlaced with Maedhros’ and squeezing him tightly. “Of course we can eat. Here-- for you.” He set the plate and a waterskin before him, but before his husband could begin, Fingon picked up a raspberry and held it to Maedhros’ lips. “Here-- best start with something juicy and sweet.”

Maedhros captured the fruit with his lips gingerly, and the burst of flavor was positively--well, wonderful. He was forgetting all the words and basis for comparison, but it tasted like Fingon felt, maybe, and that was so far the best thing he could think of. He held onto Fingon with his right hand, and with his left he began shoveling food into his mouth, heedless of the bones in the fish (pulling them out of his teeth when he had to), and eating fruit and bread thick with butter and cooked carrots with a spice he'd forgotten the name of, and when his plate was empty he gulped down water, emptying the waterskin in one go before discovering that Fingon had re-filled his plate, and he ate that, too. "Oh," he finally said, feeling barbaric and foolish and silly, but very happy and sated nonetheless, "that was good."

Fingon merely sat, grinning at his husband. He was close enough that their knees brushed as he leaned forward to load the plate a third time. “Anything else? This feels a little backward-- you used to be the one introducing me to foods! Remember how we’d go on picnics and you’d always make me special sandwiches or salads-- you knew the best flavor combinations and everything would taste divine!” He scooted closer, leaning against Maedhros’ side. Those are some of my fondest childhood memories. I loved going on adventures with you. And cooking! Remember your hot chocolate and fondues! You could even make veg into a treat with a rich broth and cheese fondue to dip bites in. He shook his head slightly before settling it on Maedhros’ shoulder.

Maedhros paused, flushing high on his cheeks and looking sheepish. "Should I--I should serve you--sorry--is there any more--food? I can--cook--" He gulped. He was sure he would pick it up again, though he couldn't remember how to now. It would come. "Sorry. I'm just--I was just--I'm so hungry!" he laughed a little. "But you should eat, too. Please? I'll cook for you next time. All the next times." He remembered a small head of dark hair that liked broccoli and cheese. He wanted that smile again.

A hand stretched up to brush against Maedhros' cheek as Fingon reveled in the light blush coloring his husband's skin. "There's enough for a small plate, beloved, and I'm not overly hungry. I much prefer knowing that you've eaten and are content, anyway." He kissed Maedhros' shoulder before sitting up pulling the last small fish to himself, adding more berries to the plate and eating his fill. "Will you stay here with me awhile?”

Maedhros looked up at Fingon with wide, almost frightened, eyes, fingers clinging tightly to his husband's hand. "Yes, yes, I--" he shook visibly, "I don't want to leave you even for a second. Please?" Maedhros set aside his plate and moved closer to Fingon, all but clambering into his lap.

Never leave you, Fingon thought fervently. Never. Yours, forever. He wrapped an arm around Maedhros as he ate, savoring his husband's closeness. His skin tingled where they were pressed together. "Done! But I need to refill the waterskins. Come with me, please?"

"Yes!" Maedhros replied, standing and pulling Fingon to his feet, and kissing him once they both were standing. He knew only that he wanted to be with Fingon.

"Thank you," Fingon whispered. He reached up to card his fingers through Maedhros' hair. "I can _feel_ you, vennonya, and that is the greatest blessing. I never want to even risk losing that again. But I also don't want to let you out of my sight." They leaned together, just holding each other and listening to the gentle lapping of waves on the shore. I know I'd still feel you-- it's silly but I'm afraid for quite some time I'm going to be uneasy whenever we can't see each other.

Hearing Fingon voice his similar fears made Maedhros' concerns more real, but also easier to deal with. He held Fingon tighter. "I don't want to let you go," he said. He wasn't sure what he was afraid of--the Valar, his Oath, Eru Iluvatar, or Aman itself. "We should--w-we can just hold hands a lot," he said with a sheepish smile.

Fingon looked up, giving him a beautiful smile. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot!" He linked their fingers together before setting off in the direction of the stream. Love you.

Love you, Maedhros replied, Need you. He squeezed Fingon's hand, smiling shyly at him. The beauty of their valley all around him was gray and uninteresting in comparison to Fingon just _being_ there.

You make me feel as though I might rise up from the ground and soar. I’m so _happy_ , Russandol. They reached the stream, each filling one of the waterskins. Fingon then paused to cup his hands and sip at the cool, fresh water. "We should go to the hot springs later-- tomorrow, perhaps? If you'd like."

Maedhros shrugged, still grinning. "Hot--yes--" then his smile faded, "--not too hot?" He wasn't sure why that worried him.

"Not too hot," Fingon promised. He remembered his cousin chained to a cliff, hanging against a bare rock face in the sweltering haze surrounding Thangorodrim. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around Maedhros, pulling him into the cool, shallow water and holding him close. "I love thee," he whispered. "I won't do anything to harm thee. It's just... pleasantly warm. Like taking a hot bath outdoors, remember? And we can go downstream where it's a little cooler if you're worried, or we can just go swimming in the lake with our stars. And with all the fish! Remember when we first swam there and I thought you were scaring them off with your magnificent, unbound hair?"

"I know--and I do," Maedhros said. He remembered it like a dream, and smiled, fear of heat forgotten. "I would like to be with you," he emphasized. That's what matters most. I want to soak with you in hot water and swim with you in cool water. I want to be yours, and keep you as mine. "I missed you."

"And I you, my only love." Fingon wrapped his arms around Maedhros' shoulders, pulling himself up for a kiss until he was almost hanging from his cousin. "I want to do anything and everything with you-- so long as we are together I shall count myself most blessed."

Maedhros smiled, pulling Fingon into both arms. "Me, too. Love you." He rested his head on Fingon's chin, though he bent over almost uncomfortably. "Will you take off your clothes, please?" he asked suddenly.

"While we're standing in the river?" Fingon smiled at him questioningly, though he immediately brought his hands to his shirt and began to unfasten it and remove the garment. You know I would do anything for you. You have but to ask it-- but to think it.

"Well, we could go back to camp," Maedhros said, suddenly bashful. "I just--" I just want to touch you, to look at you, explore you, smell you, taste you.

Fingon let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "Anything," he whispered. "I've _missed_ you, my prince. I've _ached_ for you." For your touch, your lips, your hand in mine. He hesitated and looked up at his husband, shirt hanging form one hand. "But... only when you're ready. I'd be happy just sleeping next to you tonight. I'm happy just being able to gaze upon you and listen to you, just knowing you're here. You're my world." Don't push too fast if you don't want to. But if you do... I am yours.

"Could I carry you?" Maedhros asked once they were on solid ground again. "I mean, er--" he said, since he wasn't sure he could how strong his body was. "Could I try?"

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. I’m sure you could carry me.” Fingon paused and held out his arms to be picked up. “Just keep an eye on the ground-- it’s changed a bit since… since the last time we were here. I keep almost tripping over fallen logs that shouldn’t be there, or bushes that have grown where the deer paths have changed.”

"All the important things are still the same," Maedhros said, his throat tightening as he gazed fondly at Fingon, the most important part of their valley, and imagined how long Fingon was alone here. He swung him gently into his arms and paused, sure he could hold him before taking slow but careful steps back the way they had come, the way he knew because it was traced into his heart. Fingon's weight against him was a comfort, something he had missed so much it _still_ hurt. "Love you," he murmured, kissing his temple.

“Love you most,” Fingon whispered quietly as he relaxed, nestled snugly against his husband’s chest. Missed this. He blinked back tears and lay his head against Maedhros, focusing on his heartbeat. He’d been so alone. A brief mental shake followed-- that was over, and he had something far more pleasant to dwell on. His Russandol had returned. Maedhros carried him easily and surely, his footsteps true, and Fingon barely noticed their movements. If not for his fear of letting go of Maedhros even for a moment, he would have fallen asleep.

"I want to know how long you were alone," Maedhros demanded. "But no more." They were at the base of the pool, where the air was warm and smelled strongly. He met Fingon's eyes carefully. "I need to know, please. So that--so that I can make it up to you."

Fingon’s eyes, half-closed and lax, shot open and he glared at his beloved. “It wasn’t your fault, Russ. _Never_ your fault. We… we’ve talked about the many places blame for… for many things can go.” The sentence was vague, but they were out in the open and after some of the things that had happened to the Noldor-- it was safer not to speak too openly or clearly. “You wouldn’t hurt me. And your plan-- it was a good plan. It was the right plan. But my people came forth too early and yours fell behind and then Glaurung--” he shuddered. “I’m the one who-- who died, Russ. If anything it’s my fault.” He looked down at the pool and up at his husband. “We should finish undressing before we get in. I’m not sure how long I’ve been along here. It’s been… it’s been a long while. At first there were a few eagles who would fly overhead, but I disliked their presence and they eventually stopped coming. The lord of the hunt has been through the valley a couple of times – he brought wine and fresh clothing and a pendant that Turko and ‘Rissë had given him, which he asked me to hold onto for him.” His reached into a pocket, pulling it out and gazing at it wistfully. “I’ve missed you all.”

Maedhros blinked tears away, but nodded. He had wanted to know.  He kissed Fingon's cheek again as he stood him on his feet. "I missed you," he said, though he couldn't imagine what Fingon had gone through being reborn without him. "I'll never leave you again. I'm sorry, I'm so--" But Fingon knew how sorry he was. He gulped and shook his head. "May I undress you?"

He was answered with a quiet nod and Fingon stepping closer to him. The younger Elda held his arms away from his sides, offering himself to Maedhros. “I'll never leave you, either. It’s been so long… I’ve missed the comfort of your skin pressed against mine while I sleep and when I wake.”

Maedhros smiled and approached gingerly, taking hold of the hem of Fingon's shirt and pulling it up, brushing his fingers over his skin as the garment came away. "You're--beautiful. Just like I remember. You feel--" he stepped closer, "and you smell wonderful." He brushed his knuckles over the hem of Fingon's trousers, untying them and letting them fall. "Want to worship you."

“I should be on my knees before you-- you are my lord husband and you were… and you are… my king.” Fingon stood before Maedhros without shame, and though his body was beginning to rise in desire it was far outshone by the desperation to simply be close to Maedhros, to hold him and comfort him, to caress his right hand and promise they would never again be parted.

Maedhros bent down to kiss his perfectly pink lips, lingering as he felt Fingon's breath against his cheeks. "You," he repeated, kissing his neck. "I am nothing, I have no life without you." Slowly he dropped to his knees, kissing along the way. He felt Fingon's body was cuing him, and he responded instinctively. "May I?" he asked, kissing across his hips and lingering over his sex.

Fingon let out a trembling moan, hands seeking Maedhros’ hair for comfort as much as for purchase. “Y-yes. You remember the first time we did this, at the cabin? I- I still hold by what I said then. I want this, beloved. But even more than that I wish to bring you pleasure and joy.” One hand shifted to caress his husband’s cheek. “If this would please you… please, Russ. I wish to spend in you. And I wish for us to join again. I fear I won’t feel entirely myself until you are within me.”

Maedhros' breath hitched. "Me, neither. I just--" Slow? Please? I want you like this, I want to taste you now. He licked Fingon tentatively, fingers brushing over his hips and sides.

“Beloved. My Russandol. Vennonya.” Fingon’s breath hitched as he spoke, voice falling into the high accent, and his hand tightened a little in Maedhros’ hair. He trembled where he stood, and he could not tear his eyes away from his lover, his best friend, his everything. “As slow as you want. I promise. Feels so good, Russ. Oh! Feels like home.” He leaned forward, eyes blurring and one arm clenching on Maedhros’ shoulder to keep him upright.

Home, Maedhros agreed, taking Fingon in his mouth and groaning in delight at the taste he remembered so well. Oh, yes, please, he said, more, and he opened his throat, his tongue and mouth knowing what to do. Fingon's pleasure was settling around him like a warm embrace. He wanted to be here. This was all he wanted. Thank you. Thank you. He dug his fingers into Fingon's hips and pulled him closer, delighting in where Fingon's hands touched him in turn.

Fingon shook beneath each touch, feeling unbelievably desperate (how long had it been? he hadn't even wanted to on his own- not when Russ seemed lost to him). "Please, arimeldanya. Not going to last-- I... I need you. I tremble for you." With a gasp, he began moving slowly in counterpoint to his husband, slipping down his throat where everything was warm, tight, perfect, and throwing their bond open, trying to show Maedhros how perfect he was, how wonderful he made Fingon feel, and how much Fingon loved and missed him.

Please yes good more, Maedhros found himself thinking and feeling. Their bond was open and thrumming with need and love. Findekáno. I love thee. Want you happy. Want you pleased. Want to taste you. Will you spend for me? He asked, and opened up his throat and swallowed around him.

"R- Ruuuuussss!" Fingon moaned his husband's name, and then sighed it as he tipped over the edge effortlessly. He clung to Maedhros as his heart raced and he tried to even out his breathing. Love you. Love you love you love you. Never want to let go.

Maedhros drank him down as he finished, and held him carefully so he wouldn't fall. As Fingon went weak-kneed Maedhros caught him and rocked him, treasured him, held him, worshipped him. "Need you, love you," he said, kissing Fingon's face. "Call me Russ again. I missed that."

"Russ," Fingon said with a smile. "Perfect Russ, beautiful Russ, prince Russ." He paused between each name to press his lips to his husband's skin. "Vennonya Russ." I love thee. Thank you. You're going to be spoiling me again, aren't you? "Russ?" He grinned as Maedhros looked at him curiously. "I don't know if I can walk." I feel so good. So relaxed. I haven't felt like this for (years, centuries, age)-- a very long time.

"You don't have to, anymore. I will always be here to carry you," Maedhros whispered. He shrugged out of his (Fingon's?) clothes before picking Fingon up and stepping into the warm water. Immediately his body relaxed, though he kept away from the hottest part of the spring. "Mm," he said, hugging Fingon close.

"Love this," Fingon sighed, relaxing in Maedhros' arms. "Oh!" He looked at his husband. "Did you need... want... or should I wait until layer?" He gestured at the other Elda vaguely. "Sorry. You really did have me more relaxed than I've been in a long while and not thinking."

"Later," Maedhros hummed, holding and rocking him gently. "I'm relaxed too. I love feeling you like this."

"I haven't felt whole without you," Fingon whispered. "It's been so lonely without your fëa mingling with mine. It's so... Silent. Dead." He shook himself out of his thoughts and turned, floating lazily next to Maedhros while his hands traced his husband's shoulders and back. "I love thee. I want to just keep saying that- I shall never tire of telling you. You brought light back into my days when you arrived here." Though admittedly at first he had thought he had finally lost his grip on reality, and was feeling and hearing a wondrous imagining as though it were real. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I will always love you. So long as the smallest part of myself yet remains, know that you are loved and cherished. They were both relaxing, muscles loosening in the warm water, and Fingon did not mention his husband's guiding movements, urging them away from the warmest areas.

I'm real, Maedhros said, I promise. At least, I think I am. You could be a product of my desperately lonely mind, but I don't think you are. I think we're home, together. I would know the touch of your fëa anywhere. He kissed Fingon's neck, settling him on his lap and closing his eyes. He clasped his left hand over his right arm behind Fingon before he remembered he didn't have to do that anymore, and slowly trailed his fingers down to touch other fingers, twining them together so he would not ever let go.

"You're real." You're real and you're mine and I'm yours. Fingon smiled at the brush of Maedhros' fingers. "And you're _whole_." He snuggled against Maedhros' chest and relaxed, closing his eyes and enjoying the water and the steam and Maedhros below him and above him and around him. "And I am very much in love with you, my prince."

Almost without realizing he was doing it, Maedhros began to hum softly, an old tune that only they knew, and soon he began to sing, words he thought he had forgotten but could no sooner forget than Fingon's name. Their song.

Fingon’s eyes watered and he pressed his face against his cousin’s shoulder as he listened to their song. Slowly, he joined in, focusing on the melody and swaying in Maedhros arms. “I want to dance with you again someday, beloved. When you’re ready-- when you want to.” He smiled slightly, arms tightening around Russ. “You know, most of our clothes are still sitting in our house- everything’s still there and is fairly clean. The library is intact-- I was there briefly before I rode out this way.” He quieted after a minute, and thought of nothing but the music coming from his husband’s lips, and the echoes of it which danced across their bond.

"We shall dance all you want, my sweet," Maedhros said. "I could never deny you." He kissed Fingon's hair, and recalled with joy walking their home. "But our home is here," he reminded Fingon, "with each other."

"Always," Fingon agreed. "I've been away from home for far too long." And when you're ready (but he wouldn't, couldn't push his husband) I would become one with you. He twisted to meet Maedhros' eyes. "This is nice-- just... half dancing in the warm water to our own music. You shine more than the brightest star when you smile. Did you know that?"

"I want--" Maedhros began shyly, that, too, but-- "want to re-learn you. First." He gulped nervously. That didn't make sense, but he didn't know what he was afraid of. "I love you, I'm sorry," he whispered into Fingon's hair.

"Don't," Fingon said immediately. "Don't be sorry. I left you and I didn't mean to, and _I'm_ sorry. And even before then you were... hurt... so badly. If you never want anything more than my presence near you I will be happy with that and eager to spend as much time near you as I may. I want you to be comfortable and happy and safe." His arms tightened around Maedhros. And I will enjoy re-learning you as well. Though-- if you are willing-- I would like to fall asleep in your arms tonight, or at least reaching out and holding your hand. Touching you in anyway, so that I know you are here-- home.

Maedhros sobbed again, without meaning to. "Please," he said. "Don't ever let go." He clung to Fingon tightly, trying to rein in the wash of strange emotions. "I--I want you to know that's not the only reason I l-love you," he stammered, unsure why this had him so upset.

Holding Maedhros, Fingon moved them to the edge of the spring, settling on a ledge on the side and pulling Maedhros onto his lap. “I _never_ though that.” He ran his hands through Maedhros’ hair and over his shoulders before tugging him close, holding his husband to his chest. “I love you. And you have ever loved me-- I’ve known that since before I could speak. You are my world, Prince Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol, and I believe that I am yours.” He truly believed it at this point, though for many years he had doubted that he was worthy of his beloved cousin. “I need you in all ways, as well, and love you for all reasons- for your smile and mirth, your kindness, the way you dance, the way your happiness fills a room and raises the mood of everyone within it. I love you for your love of family and the way you patiently braid your cousins’ and siblings’ hair, your insistence on resolving family issues and your sense of honor. I love you because you are Russandol -- please, never think that I do not.”

Maedhros nodded as he wept gently against Fingon's shoulder, arms never not tight around him. "I know. Oh, I know. I know. I love you, too--I love--things I don't remember." He lifted up his head suddenly with a small gasp. "Your hair! I can braid your hair!" he cried, suddenly delighted, suddenly smiling. "M-may I? Please?" he asked, wiping his eyes.

“I’d like that very much. I’ve missed your plaiting- I can never get my hair to look as good as when you work with it.” Fingon was crying as well, holding Maedhros and feeling safer than he had in years with his husband’s weight above him and his arms around him. “Right now, or after we get out?”

"Ah, after--but may I just play with it now?" Maedhros said, embarrassed that he was sure he needed more practice learning to use his hand. To think of how long Fingon had been without him--he who had always been there, should always be here, how often Fingon had plaited his own hair--hurt him deeply. "Ah, Findekáno," he sighed, and slipped their lips together, kissing him. Never again should you have to braid your own hair.

“It feels better, and looks better, when you do it.” But plaiting my hair when you were gone helped me feel close to you. They relaxed as Maedhros’ hands wound through his husband’s hair. That feels wonderful, beloved, Fingon thought as they kissed. My hair is yours to play with, though I should like to plait yours sometimes.

"Well, yes, of course," Maedhros said, his mood immediately improving as his fingers threaded through his beloved's hair. "I am yours as you are mine." He paused after saying it, for the words felt familiar even if he didn't remember them. He braided a loose knot behind Fingon's back without looking, unwound it, and did it again, and again. "Love you," he breathed.

“I love you,” Fingon answered. He felt Maedhros’ hesitance, and a series of clouded spots already appearing as he tried to remember things. And my mind-- my thoughts and memories-- are yours if you should want them. He made the offer and then turned his thoughts to other things. “If we don’t want fish again for dinner, would you like to head out with me in a little while to forage? I probably would have just grabbed a bed of greens-- there are several meadows filled with greenery and berries, and we could get some radishes and carrots if you’d like.”

Maedhros blushed and probed gently, surface memories, some beautiful and some ugly but many--most of them--about him, and he smiled. "Yes, I would--like to look for more food," he said, halting. "I used to cook for you," he blurted out, whether because he remembered it or he saw it in Fingon's fëa. "I want to do that again."

“We can do that. Would you like me to get a couple of rabbits for you, or more fish, or… whatever I can find? Or we could do cooked greens-- oh, you used to make the most delicious creamed spinach! And amazing broths.” Fingon hesitated. “Eventually, we could visit our house- there’s more food there, in the cupboards.” And unlike in Beleriand, in the land of the undying, nothing spoiled because of the passage of time.

"Y-yes," Maedhros said. "We can harvest what we can find here--and when we return home, I'll cook for you there, too." He grinned, and pressed their noses together. "I love you."

Fingon smiled, cupping Maedhros’ face and brushing his thumbs along his husband’s cheeks. “I love you more than anything, Russandol. That sounds wonderful. I’ve missed your cooking!” Missed you. Always missed you. He tilted his head slightly and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. “Are you feeling a little better? Here-- would you be willing to turn around so that I can rub your shoulders? Your muscles still feel tight, even while you’re relaxing with me, taking a hot soak.” I think I ought to be insulted, my darling, that you are so tense while you’re relaxing with your husband.

Maedhros made a face. "Sorry," he said, but laughed. As he turned around his face clouded. "I want to remember. It makes me nervous, feeling so strange. Thank you for being patient with me." He swallowed, and then sighed as Fingon's fingers dug into his flesh deliciously. "Can--ah--will you remember, for me, our, ah, wedding? I can't--not sure I remember--what you looked like. Who was there." He nudged at Fingon's fea tentatively.

“My beloved, you could not have asked for a time I would rather relive. You shone brighter than the trees, and I’m sure without Amil there to guide me I would have tripped all the way down the stairs, for I could not tear my eyes away from you.” Fingon’s eyes slipped shut as he continued to kneed Maedhros’ shoulders. He opened his portion of the bond, opening his entire fëa to Maedhros and inviting his husband to connect them as much as he wished. Fingon focused on their wedding day, starting with his mother and Aredhel working on his hair and his garments, and continuing through the wedding and the party, presents and dancing. “That was one of the best days of my life,” he whispered. “It is only equaled by other days that I spent by your side.”

Maedhros smiled, tears of joy stinging his eyes as Fingon's memories unlocked the same in his own fëa, and soon he was seeing Fingon through his own eyes on that day, instead of through a mirror in Fingon's memory. "Darling," he breathed. "And the stars. We were clothed in stars, stars everywhere. Is that right?"

“It is. It is!” Fingon pressed his lips against the back of Maedhros’ shoulder, spirit soaring as he his husband’s memories joined his own, and he saw their memory through Maedhros’ eyes. “We had asked Turko and Irissë, just once, to go to our valley bring back bottles of star water. We wore it for our wedding, and as it grew dark we began to shine. Even before that, we were dressed in so many jewels that our fathers provided, and beautiful wedding garments our mothers made. They even dressed up our hair until yours looked like rings fire captured in golden thread, and mine was _almost_ as elegant as when Irissë and Turko decided to dress me up like a maiden.” He grinned at the memory, moving to dig his thumbs into Maedhros’ shoulder blades. “Feeling better?”

"Yes, yes I--oh!" he groaned, partially at the sensations on his back, and partially at the memory. "When you dressed up like that!" he laughed happily, remembering. "I remember that. I couldn't make them leave fast enough. You were--you are--always so beautiful." He smiled, fingers wandering over Fingon's thighs on either side of his hips. "I feel much better."

"Not trying to push," Fingon whispered. His hands slid down to cover Maedhros' fingers momentarily. "But they were both good memories. And I'm very glad you're feeling better." He thought for a moment, and spoke again as he continued to work on his husband's back. "Do you remember when we were little and you would roll us down the highest hills around? We would go in search of a big one, and once we ran up to the top you'd lay down, wrap your arms around me so that I was protected against your chest, and then we would began to roll." He laughed. "Those were wonderful times- you were amazing with me. And I loved your company and your attention. We had the best adventures together!"

"You were the kindest, sweetest, most clever and thoughtful child. I think I was in love with you when I first met you." He wasn't ashamed of that, as he feared he might be. "I loved you when--when I first met you. When I first held you." He grinned. "And yes, our adventures were always the best." He kissed Fingon's hand which rested on his shoulder.

Fingon wrapped an arm around Maedhros' middle and pulled him close. "They were." He smiled and held his husband, thinking that if they never moved he would be happy to spend eternity trapped in this moment. "Are you feeling a little looser or should I keep working on your back? And... aside from getting food is there anything else we should do today? I'm afraid it will get dark before too long- we may not have much time for anything besides dinner before it gets dark. And then our fallen stars will be revealed- I think they glow even brighter in the light of Telperion's flower." I can't wait to show you.

Maedhros smiled, turning about. "I feel wonderful, thank you." He hugged Fingon. "I want to swim with you, and braid your hair--braid it, then swim, and then braid it again. I an hungry so I could eat again, and then we can watch the stars. I'm not tired. I want to watch the stars in your eyes all night." He took Fingon's hands in his and kissed them.

"A thousand thousand nights we can do that. And then even more." Fingon smiled, pushing them back into deeper water. "Here-- let me rinse out my hair and then if you'd like we can try to do something with this mess," he gestured at his hair. "And we can start getting food before it gets dark." He didn't mention that half the time he skipped meals now- he'd get too focused on his husband's hands, or thinking he could hear his voice in the wind, and he would forget to find something to eat before it grew dark. He hated the dark in the valley- the mountains blocked much of the starlight and reminded him of the night of the darkening and the snow on the mountains in the north reminded him too much of the glaciers of the Helcaraxë. And he would willingly miss a meal to spend more time holding Maedhros, but he thought that his husband should eat and would want him to eat.

Maedhros frowned, surprised he hadn't noticed the thinness in Fingon's cheeks earlier. "Yes. We'll have a large dinner. Anything and everything we can find." He kissed Fingon, kissing away the horror and sadness. "But first, let me plait your hair?" He asked, fingers already petting, hands trembling. His hand! He had it! He could braid again!

"Mhmm. Should we get out first?" Fingon felt warm through, and knew the cold would not touch him so long as he remained in Maedhros' arms. "You always kept me nice and warm," he added aloud. "Remember when you would bundle me up in blankets and carry me into the kitchen and set me on the counter so that the cold wouldn't touch my feet?" He laughed. "Those were the best times. You took-- take- such good care of me." You make me whole and well... and make me eat veg and sleep enough and find joy in everything we do.

Maedhros kissed Fingon, lifting him from the hot water and stepping out himself. They dried off with their shirts and then sat down on their clothes, Maedhros getting up on his knees behind Fingon and brushing out his hair with his fingers. "I remember. Burrito Finno!" he giggled, beginning to plait a series of loose braids in his long hair.

“I like being burrito Finno!” Fingon closed his eyes, relaxing as Maedhros worked with his hair. After half a minute, however, he reached back and held onto his husband’s knee, needing a firmer hold on him. “I feel like you’re already arranging it more evenly than I could manage. May I plait your hair once you’ve finished mine? It would just be something simple.”

"I would love that," Maedhros said, scooting closer, sliding his knees around Fingon's hips as he braided some of the braids together until they fell like a waterfall down from the crown of his head. "I missed this. I missed your hair, and my hands, and my hands in your hair."

“They feel wonderful. Too wonderful-- I fall asleep just like this.” He took a deep breath. “But you need dinner, and I never want to sleep again. I would rather see you and hear you, feel you and know that we are together.” He waited patiently for Maedhros to finish so that he could take his turn, untangling and plaiting his husband’s hair.

"What shall we look for for supper?" Maedhros asked, loving the small tugs on his hair. He hummed happily. "I remember--there were lettuces in the field, and berries, and we used to set snares for rabbits. I want to see you eat."

Fingon laughed. “I’m more worried about _you_. I think I’ve had more food recently and you have, love. But I’ll eat anything we make together-- well, anything without raw onions.” He made a face, tugging playfully on Maedhros’ hair before he continued to braid it. “Salad, then, if a rabbit isn’t readily available?”

Maedhros tossed his head back and laughed. "If I chop them finely and sneak them in will you eat them?" His stomach rumbled at the thought. "I want to bake bread for you. Fresh bread, with cheese and herbs baked in, with butter melting on it."

“Not if they’re raw in the salad! They’ll poison the lettuce and make it all… onion-y!” Fingon was already smiling at the sound of Maedhros’ laughter-- it was sweet and musical and the springs rang with it. “That all sounds wonderful, though I’m afraid some of it must wait until we get back to the house. There! How does that feel?” He had pulled Maedhros’ hair back in four plaits tight to his head, which were tied off at his neck leaving the rest of his hair to fall freely.

"Wonderful. It's so wonderful to be alive and whole and with the most important part of me," he said, turning and kissing Fingon on the lips so hard he forced him to the earth. "Must we get dressed? Or can we roam the valley like this?"

“I thought I was the exhibitionist!” Fingon almost choked before he could answer, and he found himself grinning unrepentantly. “Of course we can! Though, we should take at least some of the water skins back to camp and grab a basket for whatever foods we find- perhaps two baskets, one for berries and one for other things.” He froze for a moment, considering his—their-- camp. “Also, I have… something… there for… for you… if it pleases you.” He stood and offered his hand to Maedhros to pull him up. “Shall we?”

"Everything you do, are, and have pleases me, Findekáno," Maedhros said, kissing him again as he took Fingon's hand and stood. "Boots. We should wear shoes I suppose." He gathered up their clothes and returned to camp with them, laying them flat to dry. He blinked up at the sky. "Oh. They left the sun up."

“Just for a while. Then the shadows will lengthen and Telperion’s flower will rise.” Fingon hesitated, shook his head, and wandered to his bedding, pulling out a small cedar box. He moved it from hand to hand before walking quickly to Maedhros and almost thrusting it into his hands. “Here.”

Maedhros took the box, and opened it gingerly (he remembered a box like this, from somewhere), and gasped as he saw what was inside, and burst into tears again. "Oh, Fin!" he cried, taking the ring out--his wedding ring, a perfect replica of the most precious anything he had ever owned and had not seen in ages. "Findekáno!" he grasped the ring in his hand and flung his arms around Fingon, sobbing into his hair. "It's perfect. Oh, it's perfect, Fin, thank you, thank you," he said, clumsily trying to look at it without dropping it on the ground.

Fingon leaned against him heavily, burying his face in Maedhros’ chest. Had to have it ready for you. And I… I was selfish. I wanted a small part of you. So I brought that and I brought one of your robes with me. “I love you,” he whispered roughly. “I love you always. And… though we are bonded forever, if you wished it, when you’re feeling better and remembering more… I would gladly repeat our vows with you.” I never stopped thinking of you, my Russandol. I never stopped missing you and worrying about you and loving you. I even prayed to Eru that you would be delivered safely to my arms.

"Oh Findekáno!" Maedhros sobbed, and for a long time he couldn't stop sobbing. I'm so sorry you were alone, I missed you, I missed you, too, so much, and I prayed and I prayed to the One I thought wasn't listening. I wish you never had to know that pain. I love you. I love you. Thank you. This is perfect. You are perfect. Findekáno I feel like I could fly now, and without you I couldn't even stand. "Will you put it on me?" he finally managed to say out loud without choking.

Nodding, Fingon carefully took the ring and began to spin it together properly. “Not your fault. I’m just so glad you’re here!” Fingon finished twisting the ring together, and he dropped to his knees, taking Maedhros’ hand gently and sliding the ring onto his finger. “There. Perfect.” He kissed the hand gently and looked up at his husband. “Does that feel better, my love?”

Maedhros sniffed and nodded, feeling small and awkward even though Fingon was kneeling in front of him. He felt rather like he had fallen and scraped his knee, but maybe scared himself more than hurt himself, and his mother or father had picked him up and kissed his knee, and now he felt that he was foolish for crying. "Yeah," he said, his breathing steadying, and he wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his other hand. He was a mess. He felt open and vulnerable and fragile and very glad that Fingon was here, even if a part of him was still mortified. "Yeah, feels better. Thanks. I--I will make yours again when we are home." Now he was impatient to be home, where before he thought he could stay out here alone with Fingon forever. "Thank you." He managed a shy smile without bursting into tears again.

"You are most welcome." Fingon stood, smiling, and wrapped Maedhros in a warm embrace. "I look forward to receiving mine." He squeezed his husband tightly, and added teasingly, "I suppose I shall just have to wear you until then- I shall have to ever be on your arm, or you on mine, or embracing you, or having you embrace me." At the very least our fear must be slightly entwined. He winked and kissed Maedhros. "That doesn't sound too bad to me. Now, if you're feeling alright, shall we start gathering greens? The baskets are just over there."

Fingon nodded and squeezed his hand. You remember! They made their way, dressed only in footwear and Maedhros' ring. "Beloved?" Fingon grinned, feeling light and happy and free. He could feel his husband's good spirits as well, and he squeezed his hand a final time before leaning up and pressing their lips together. "To the meadow!" Pumping a fist in the air, Fingon cried out their destination. "Catch me!" Then he was off, racing between the trees, glancing back to ensure that Maedhros was close behind him.

Maedhros shot off after him, capturing Fingon's hand again as they ran, laughing and panting. "Finno, wait, not so fast," he said, but then they were in the meadow, and it was beautiful bathed in the warm light of the setting sun--more beautiful than it ever looked under the Light of the Trees.

“Beautiful!” Fingon’s eyes were focused on his husband, and he stepped forward into his arms, rising on his toes to brush his lips against Maedhros’ cheek. “Absolutely stunning.” He took the basket from his husband’s lax grip and moved to tear free lettuce leaves and other greenery. “We should hurry a little-- it gets uncomfortably cold if I fail to start a fire just after dusk.”

"I'm here to keep you warm," Maedhros reminded Fingon softly. You need fear neither cold nor pain nor solitude again. But he helped gather lettuces until he discovered a patch of raspberries. "Oh Finno look!"

“Mmmm. Perfect!” Fingon immediately tried a ripe berry, savoring the flavor. “Here- they’re wonderful.” He picked a second, holding it to his husband’s lips.

"Mm," Maedhros said, glad more at his proximity to Fingon even than the sharp sweetness of the raspberry. "Thank you," he said. "I think these will go nicely on our salad."

"My pleasure. And I agree, they're a wonderful addition to dinner." They gathered handfuls of berries, laying them inside a protective lettuce shell, and Fingon located a few carrots which were easily pulled free of the loose earth while Maedhros located several plants bearing small, ripe tomatoes. "Shall we return and put together dinner, or did you want to search for something else?"

"What else would you like to look for?" Maedhros asked, returning to touching him immediately after finding they had drifted over ten feet apart. "I don't suppose we have weapons, so shooting fowl or rabbit is out of the question."

"Ah... I have some knives, and I have the bow Turko made me in camp. But I'm happy with this for dinner." He entwined his fingers with Maedhros' enjoying the contact and pleased that his husband sought out his touch as much as Fingon sought that of Maedhros. "Let's get to camp, arimeldanya. You can keep me warm while I get a fire going."

"Okay," Maedhros said, a little disappointed. But he knew how to get Fingon to eat, and he didn't have the tools or the ingredients here. "You look so thin," he said, brushing Fingon's cheek with his fingers. "But still beautiful. When we're home I'm going to fatten you up properly." He grinned.

"I feel fine-- wonderful now that you're here." Fingon leaned into the caress. "Still trying to fatten me up, Russ? I'm not trying to be... too thin. I want to be strong. Though, while I'm like this, if we went back to the house, I think I would make a lovely terenë vendë, dressed up in a gown and with my hair lifted and curled."

"I can tell you're happier when your cheeks are fuller, and when I can pinch your bum," Maedhros said, and then laughed. "Well all right--I'm happier." His eyes widened hungrily at the mention of Fingon as a slender maiden. "I think you don't need any help to be beautiful," Maedhros said. "But I would like to see that. Perhaps I'll need to re-plait your hair tonight after all."

"You flatter me." Fingon nodded in response to his husband's last statement. Please, beloved. I fear I'll be quite greedy and always want your skin or fëa pressed against mine. And your fingers in my hair are even more special- I tried and tried, but my hands never felt quite the same. "Let's work on dinner," he whispered as they returned to camp. "We can feed each other and watch the stars. I'll start the fire and put some water on for tea." He hesitated. "A small fire won't bother you, will it?"

"N-no," Maedhros promised, though he was unsure why he stuttered. "It's fine," he added more firmly. "Here, soak these leaves in water for some tea." He washed and then began tearing up the other leaves into a salad, and cut the new carrots and tomatoes and raspberries into the large bowl. The act of cooking was calming and comforting, and he sat close to Fingon so that their legs were touching.

After lighting a small fire and setting a small kettle to boil, Fingon curled closer to Maedhros and began playing with his cousin's hair. "It looks wonderful; let me know if there's anything I can do to help." It's funny- I'd gotten so used to looking through plants and fruits for bad spots that I was rather shocked to return to the undying West where such blemishes do not occur. I found myself sorting through greens multiple times until I remembered I need not. Fingon shrugged, kissing Maedhros' shoulder and then his neck. "Have I mentioned how much I adore thee? I fear words have not done justice to how much I've missed you and how great a balm your presence is for my soul."

Maedhros frowned. He remembered that, too, but he had done so very little of preparing his own (or Fingon's) food in Beleriand. "Know that I missed you just as much," Maedhros said, shaking the salad bowl to mix the ingredients--meagre, but better than they both had had before. "Know that if you were not here, I would be--as nothing as I was--b-before I awoke. Know that I love you as much as you love me."

Fingon sighed and shifted until he knelt behind his husband, arms around him, holding them together as solidly as he could. "I am yours as you are mine. Tye melin, vennonya." He glanced at the bowl. "It's not bad- it's simple, but everything is fresh and... it's all from our valley- that makes it very special. Why, if we had a little goat cheese crumbled on top I think any of the chefs of Valinor would be loath to add anything else for fear of taking away from its simple beauty." He kissed Maedhros' shoulder again, pressing his cheek against it. "Besides, you're making it, which means dinner will be delicious and perfect. I am certain of that."

Maedhros smiled widely, and laughed a bit. "You're right. I'd also candy some nuts on top, and add a light sprinkling of balsamic. But I often overdo it." He turned to kiss Fingon's arm. "But I am eating it with you, so it is perfect already. Shall we?" There were forks, and they ate from the same bowl.

“That would be good, too! But yes, let’s eat.” Fingon made an appreciative sound as he tried the first bite, and shifted to sit next to Maedhros, leaning heavily against his side. “Wonderful! It’s clean and fresh… it tastes like summer, beloved. Thank you.”

"You are my summer. It tastes like you," Maedhros said with a smile. He poured tea out of the pot into cups and handed one to Fingon. "I am so glad to be with you." He held himself back from eating this time, so that Fingon could have his fill, and he draped his shirt around Fingon's back. "I love you," he whispered, holding him close.

“And I you. Love you always. Mmmm. This is good-- hot.” Fingon leaned up and kissed the tip of Maedhros’ nose in thanks. “Thank you.” He wrapped his arms around the cup to keep warm, settling in as they watched the shadows grow and the lake suddenly come alive with stars. “Just like when we first promised ourselves to each other. I shall never forget that trip, nor the other times we came here together.”

Now giving up on eating entirely, Maedhros wrapped his arms and legs around Fingon to hold him and warm him, smiling as he watched him. "Yes, I remember. I was trying to do what I thought was best for us both, but I was a brute! I'm surprised--but glad--that you ever forgave me." He kissed Fingon's neck. "Shall we go for a swim when our stars come out--like that first time?" He stole a raspberry from the bowl and ate it, still snuggling close to Fingon. "And should we erect a tent for sleeping in? Or find some other shelter?" He did not want Fingon to be touched by even a harmless chill.

"I'd like to swim with you in our stars. Ah... I've just been sleeping in a couple of bedrolls and a pile of blankets. There's a small cave where the land starts rising more- I go there when it's too windy or stormy. But we can set something else up if you'd like." He skilled at Maedhros, rubbing his husband's back and enjoying the warmth of his skin. "I'll be comfortable as long as we're together. And I brought lots of blankets we can use."

Maedhros nodded, slipping off his shoes. "I'll make sure you're never cold," he said, as the sun began to set and the stars came out. "Not while I'm around. Even if it means chasing you through the water to get your heart rate up," he teased.

 

Fingon squeaked, jumping slightly. "No need for that, beloved. I--ah-- don't think chasing could get me as warm as being in your arms." He nodded decisively, though he wouldn't be opposed to a short chase-- so long as they stayed almost within arms reach. "So we should stick together. Besides, I don't think I could last very long without touching you, holding you, kissing you... If you allow it, I would like to be very selfish and stay close to you."

"A very short chase," Maitimo confirmed. "I'll never let you out of my sight or my grasp easily." He kissed his neck gently. "And then I shall make sure you sleep warmly all night."

"Mhmm. You and me and a big pile of blankets- it sounds perfect!" Fingon tilted his head, offering greater access to his neck if Maedhros wanted it. "I think it will be a perfect night- it looks like there won't be much wind and the sky is perfectly clear. Just let me know when you'd like to go star bathing."

"Just let me undo your hair, so the water doesn't tangle it," Maedhros said, finger-combing out the netting of braids he had plaited. "But we can see how cool the water is and just wade if you'd prefer."

"Thank you," Fingon said quietly. "I think you must be the kindest, most attentive husband in all Arda. You're wonderful to me- and I fear I've never thanked you enough for that, for being you." He leaned against his husband as careful fingers worked through his hair. "And we can wade first, but I would like to go swimming with you. I'd like to see you rising up for the water adorned with stars, and I would garb myself in a raiment of them for you."

Maedhros bit his lip, finding Fingon so deliciously sweet and beautiful in his words and thoughts and actions. "Darling," he said, kissing his fingertips, "You have always thanked me sufficiently, perhaps not even knowing it, by your love and kindness. You have never made me feel underappreciated." He pulled Fingon directly onto his lap and made a show of helping him off with his boots, holding him close and warm.

You make me feel precious, Fingon thought with a soft sigh. I love thee beyond words. When his boots were off he moved to help unlace his husband's, before drawing them to their feet. "To the water, vennonya? I would see thee covered in stars, though they pale in comparison with the beauty of your fëa and hröa."

You are precious, Maedhros answered him as they stood. "And I you," he added, "I want your skin to sparkle as your eyes," he said, though you are even more beautiful when I close my eyes and just feel your fëa mingled with mine." He leaned in and kissed Fingon gently on the lips before guiding them into the water.

Fingon flushed at the compliments and followed Maedhros into the water. "Oh! The water isn't bad at all." Fingon stepped closer and looked up at Maedhros fondly. "But it's even better with my arms around you."

"It is wonderful like this," Maedhros said, wrapping his arms around Fingon and pulling them deeper. "It's wonderful with you. Ah--it's like our story," he blushed suddenly, as if surprised he remembered it. "Would you let me bear you swimming?"

"Gladly," Fingon whispered. "Please." He pressed closer to his husband as Maedhros lowered them into the water, eyes open as he watched him, already crowned with the stars behind him- more than had been visible when the Tree's light shone.

Maedhros swam then on his back, floating idly with Fingon on top of him, like he was a boat and Fingon his passenger or guide. "Or like when you were still small, and this is how we swam, before you could on your own."

"We did! That was so much fun!" Fingon laughed, leaning forward to press their lips together. "You were the best friend I could have had. The very best. And sometimes when I was larger I'd hold you as we swam. Like when we swam in the pools at our house for the first time."

"Oh, yes!" Maedhros said, smiling. How could he ever have forgotten? Those memories were engraved on his heart in the space between Findekáno's name. His eyes watered slightly to think of them, and how much he enjoyed being with his Fingon here, now, and always. "You were always my closest companion and greatest love."

"And I think I was born for you, for it is not a lie to say I believe I've loved you since I was born." Fingon lay his head against Maedhros' chest, settling comfortably above him as they floated in a world of stars. Tyë melin, vennonya. You've given me a beautiful memory this night-- for that I thank thee.

"I don't want you to be hurt," Fingon whispered. "But knowing you, you'll want your memories whole. And I hope that your life- that our lives- have been filled with more joys than sorrows. Even simple moments like this seem to bring with them a wash of pleasure and a surge of contentment that may, in whole, make up for the dark times."

Maedhros blinked up at Fingon and stopped swimming. "A moment with you is worth a lifetime of suffering and darkness--and do not ever think that I mean that only as poetic exaggeration." He kissed Fingon, wrapping his arms around him. "I love thee."

Fingon nuzzled against him, relishing every place where their skin touched. “Yes, but… I told you once that I would be with you no matter what- even if things weren’t right, I mean. And you said that you hoped I wouldn’t, because you wouldn’t want me to be hurting, or in a bad situation. I want your happiness, beloved. And I very much want to be with you, but I never want to be the cause of your suffering.” He brushed their noses together before kissing Maedhros again. “Even if I can also give you light… I beg Eru that I don’t bring you darkness.”

Maedhros frowned. "Never, love, never. I only said so to keep you from pain, but absence of you is the only darkness I know." He cupped Fingon's chin in his hand to look at him. "Are you all right? What are you afraid of?"

“Hurting you.” The answer came in a whisper, and Fingon held his husband tightly for a long moment before focusing on the night and the stars and their gentle movements through the water. Maedhros was warm and solid under him. Running a hand through Maedhros’ hair, which floated loosely amid the stars, he continued to speak. “Losing you again. Being alone inside my head and left with one half of a broken bond. Finding out how much it hurt for you to live that way after I… died.”

Maedhros held Fingon tighter. "I fear it, too, Fin," he whispered, "all the more for having lived it. And I know the only thing worse than being without you is knowing how much it hurt you to be without me. But know that I will never and can never let you go. I would sooner die, or run away with you, or bind our fear together with an impenetrable bond of steel that they would have to maim me again to part us. Fin, oh, Fin," he sighed, weeping again. "Findekáno, I'm so sorry. Please don't be afraid. Being with you is everything to me, and I won't let us be parted for anything."

They turned in the water, until both Eldar were upright and clinging to each other. “Never,” Fingon swore. “I won’t let them part us. I would fight against all the world to stay with you.” He held Maedhros against him, hands gently stroking his husband’s head and hair. “Sorry, beloved. I didn’t mean for you to cry. Sorry. I’m here, I promise. And I’m staying here.” He bit his lip, leaning back and kicking lightly as he moved them back towards the shallows. “Do you think you could smile for me? Your smile is brighter to me than the Trees in the spring of Valinor, and it would be a most precious gift.”

Maedhros had to force the smile to begin with, but holding Fingon in his arms was the happiest thing he knew, and soon the smile was genuine and warm. "I'm all right," he said. "I'm sorry I--I feel so fragile. I'll get better. Because I know you're here. No one will part us, but just in case, we shall be together for all eternity--no oaths, no Vala, not even the end of the world and time could part us now. You are my heaven, my treasure, my life. You are me--so how could they part us?" He kissed Fingon, gently and chastely, and smiled. "You look so beautiful with the stars in your hair. And--and I'm not ashamed anymore," he added, glancing at their reflections in the water. "I'm whole again, for you, and so I am wholly yours." He squeezed him with both hands.

Good, Fingon thought as Maedhros said he was no longer ashamed. He felt certain his husband never had cause to be. “Then you have given me a treasure beyond reckoning.” He smiled at their reflections before turning to look at his husband directly. “All I can offer you is all that I am. As you are mine, so I am yours.” He leaned up, pressing his lips to Maedhros’ mouth before falling back into the water with a splash. “I think you mentioned something about a short chase. If I start swimming back to camp will you catch me?” Squeezing his husband tightly again, Fingon ducked into the water, racing for the shore and staring at the star studded landscape of the lake. A few fish were swimming, surrounded by the glowing ‘stars’ and sending the stars spinning about as the water around them moved.

Maedhros, spurred on by his desire to have Fingon in his arms, sped after him, and would have caught him after only a few strokes except for the purposes of the game he let him swim unimpeded a few strokes more before catching and pinning him and wrestling him to the surface. "I think that was long enough out of my grasp, you wriggly little minnow!" he laughed--really laughed, for Fingon was wriggling adorably in his arms.

Maedhros' laughter was like light and hope and goodness become sound, and Fingon's spirit soared with it."You caught me," he agreed, laughing into the still air of the night. "That means you have to keep me!" After a brief struggle for show, he settled willingly in Maedhros' arms. "It's starting to get a little chilly, though. We're both thoroughly covered in stars from head to toe- are you ready to head back to shore?"

"Yes, I'll keep you. I'll put you before the fire and then eat you," he teased, already paddling toward shore. "Love you," he whispered. "I'm ready. Thank you." In fact he was already tired, like his body was out of shape. No matter. "I'll keep you warm," he promised.

"Always nice and warn with you," Fingon whispered. "Love you, perfect Russ." He relaxed, eyes half shut, as his husband guided them. He shivered as they emerged from the lake, but Maedhros' arms were quickly wrapped around him as he was guided close to the fire.

Maedhros sat near the fire with Fingon in his lap and dried him off before pulling a fresh blanket over him and finger combing his hair out. "Going to braid them for sleeping in," he said, and then giggled. "To prevent untanglement."

"Yes! You've always been the best at that." Fingon laughed, reaching out to touch Maedhros' leg. "This is nice. Comfortable." He glanced back at Maedhros, squeezing his knee. "When we get back to the house would you please make me new golden threads? My hair hasn't felt quite right without their weight. Though I already feel more like... me, with you untangling and plaiting it.""

"And I feel like myself," Maedhros said, "like I haven't felt since before--the Darkening. You in my arms, my hands in your hair, they make me feel alive." He hummed to himself tunelessly. "And yes, I have quite a lot to make for you, my darling," he said with a grin. "Patience. Now is the time for getting warm, and for sleeping. So that when we wake up I know this isn't a dream." He kissed Fingon's ear.

"Your hands," Fingon sighed happily. "Yes, I think I'm ready. I'll throw a few more logs on the fire if you unroll the bed rolls. I'm afraid we'll have to share a pillow- I hope you don't mind." He turned with a smile when Maedhros finished with his hair, and was caught in awe for several seconds at the picture a starlit and star covered Maedhros made, sitting talk against the glowing lake and the clear night sky.

"Your heart will be my pillow," Maedhros said, "and I shall sleep the more comfortable." He caught Fingon looking at him and smiled back, nearly bursting into tears for the beauty of his beloved, within and without. "I love thee," he breathed, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

“And I, thee, always.” Fingon smiled, brushing a stray piece of Maedhros’ hair behind his ear and grinning as his fingers brushed along spots of light. “I’ll take care of the fire now. Though I’m torn- I want to snuggle up with you under a pile of blankets.” Maedhros nodded at him. “But I’m also loathe to cover us up… you are beautiful, darling. I should be trying to paint you, or sculpt you… though I fear no art of mine could capture your beauty tonight.”

Maedhros snorted softly. "You can--you will--but later. Tonight we hold each other and rest. I can see to the fire, if you want?" he asked, but hesitated briefly. "Or--or I'll make our bed," he said, rolling the two bedrolls out next to each other and piling on the dry blankets with care.

"Thanks." Fingon added logs and kindling to the fire, staying close to it while Maedhros set up their bedding. "Ready?" At his husband's nod he raced over, burying himself in the blankets with a happy sound. "Nice. Warm. Join me?"

Maedhros laughed gently, grinning and following Fingon into bed, growling slightly as he wrapped his arms around Fingon. "You are nice and warm," he said, nuzzling Fingon's cheeks and neck and kissing him. He slipped in against Fingon, slotting their bodies together. "Are you warm enough?" he asked, sliding on top of Fingon and grinning down at him.

“Mhmm.” Feeling safe, and grounded, and warm, Fingon beamed at his star coated husband. He reached up to run his fingers through Maedhros’ hair. “Nice and warm with you. Are you going to sleep on top of me, arimeldanya?”

Maedhros grinned and rubbed their noses together. "I might. Then I won't forget that you're real, and you won't forget that I'm real," he said. He braced knees and elbows on either side of Fingon's body, and just studied him, every dimple and every eyelash. "I may not be able to close my eyes."

"You should rest," Fingon whispered, stroking his hair fondly. "Eru knows what you've been put through. But you're home, and you're safe, and besides, I would die before I let any harm befall you here and would gladly take any and every blow for you." He ignored his own worries and the raw ache in his chest that was finally subsiding with his husband's presence. It was easier to focus on Maedhros' needs, his comfort and safety and rest. "I love you, Russandol," he whispered, leaning up to brush their lips together fleetingly, then relaxing once more.

"You've been through worse," Maedhros whispered. "Or just as much. Anyway sleep is not half the comfort that being with you, seeing you, touching you is." He kissed Fingon's lips gently.

Yes. Fingon pulled Maedhros down against his chest, hands trailing along his husband's back. Anything I have to give is yours. I'm so glad your feeling well. He beamed up at Maedhros. "You look like you're wearing a crown of stars. I love it. Mmm. Did you want me to scoot over so we can share the pillow or are you comfy as we are?" He stole another kiss, focusing on their bond and sighing happily as waves of love and happiness surged through it.

Maedhros smiled and blushed. "Yes, but only nudge your head over slighty," he said, pulling the blankets up over his shoulders and tucking his feet under the edge before settling back down, chest to chest, his chin tucked against Fingon's shoulder. "I love you. I am so very comfortable."

"Love you most." Fingon curled against his husband, watching as he glowed beneath the stars, warm and solid, alive and whole. "Me too," he added quietly, wrapping an arm around Maedhros and squeezing for a minute. "Sleep well, my love."

"No," he giggled, his breath hot on Fingon's neck. "You sleep well."

"No?" Fingon's lips curled up in a small smile as he held his husband, feeling a wave of shared happiness as their eyes met. "Well, if you refuse to sleep well right from the start surely I'm doing something wrong. I fear I won't be able to relax at all as I reflect and try to discover what I've done that's so bad you refuse to find rest beside me."

Maedhros bit Fingon's nose gently. "Well, then I shall do the same," he said. "You must be tired from not sleeping well for so long, after all--and I have been sleeping for a long time." It still felt odd, joking about it, but maybe he wasn't joking at all.

Fingon considered the answer, and though he did not believe Maedhros would intentionally lie to him, he thought his husband likely needed sleep much like, once they decided to eat, Maedhros had found himself famished. "Perhaps we both need rest? What if we each close our eyes. I'd like to... Well, him you a bit of our song, and a bit of a song I made. Would you be willing to relax and just listen?"

Considering this, and since he felt Fingon very much wanted him to sleep, Maedhros nodded. "Yes, I would like that," he said, and rearranged himself so that his ear rested on Fingon's chest, so he could hear and feel the sound. "Okay, ready," he said, his fëa smiling in anticipation.

Closing his eyes, Fingon began humming pieces of their song, which slowly changed into something new. He sang a melody of excitement and fascination, of adventure and growing, of love kindled and reunion, of bliss, of searching and finding, of completeness. And as he did so, Fingon stroked his husband's hair, hoping Maedhros would fall asleep and wishing that he might as well.

Maedhros hummed the parts he knew, but finally his own voice settled in favor of listening to Fingon, hearing him through his chest and through his heart. He imagined their youth--the beautiful times--and he recalled their hardships--and even these were beautiful in their tragedy, and all the times he was with Fingon this theme followed him. Love you, he said, and he remembered wanting to ask some question or another when the song was over (not wanting to interrupt) and then suddenly sleep swept over him and he knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

_Love you_ , Fingon thought in answer. His voice and song faded until they had quieted completely. He hugged Maedhros, peeking at his husband with a small grin. Satisfied that he was slumbering comfortably, Fingon closed his eyes and exhaled. He had almost followed Maedhros into the land of dreams when he shivered and had to check that Maedhros was with him. He swallowed, settled again, and had to stroke Maedhros' hair to know it was there. After several more failed attempts he gave up and settled for biting his lip, taking pleasure only from being able to watch his husband at peace. I'm afraid, he realized, steadying his breathing and working to keep his fear from reaching across their bond. He watched Maedhros as though he might at any moment dissolve into mist or a figment of imagination that, while strong and vivid at the onset, fades over time. I'm scared.

_Maedhros was alone, in the glade in the moonlight, the body beneath him nothing but a bundle of blankets. No! Findekáno was gone? He couldn't be gone!_

"Findekáno?" he cried, and jerked awake, up on hands and knees. But the nightmare was0 replaced, and Fingon was there, a strange look on his face. "Fin! Oh, Finno," he said, pulling him into a crushing hug. "I thought--I dreamt--" He shook his head. "Are you all right?"

Fingon pulled Maedhros up until they were face to face, clinging to him desperately. He was shaking, he noticed idly. "No. I'm not. I'm sorry." He shuddered, opening his end of their bond even as his arms tightened around his husband. Shouldn't have asked you to sleep. Sorry. I--I couldn't. "Scared I wouldn't be with you if I slept--that we wouldn't share a dream. And I'm afraid I'll dream of being alone. And--and...we know each other inside out, beloved. You're so perfectly... _you_... and yet my memories give you your memories... what if I'm asleep right now and when I fall asleep I'll wake up?" He shuddered at the thought, fingers tightening hard enough to bruise before he could force himself to loosen his grip. "Sorry--are you... you're alright? What did you dream, arimeldanya? Do you want me to make more tea or get you water? Would more light be better?"

Maedhros shook his head, sitting up and pulling Fingon onto his lap, folding him into a bundle and wrapping him in a blanket. "No, darling, no. You are all right. We're both all right. I'm here. I am _here_. When we sleep, we will share our dreams. When you wake up, I will be here. I know this as certainly as I know I'm not afraid of your memories." He kissed Fingon gently, reverently, protectively, and held Fingon still and close. "I love you. I love you."

“Darling.” Fingon shook his head, sounding pained. “I should be protecting you. But… I can’t refuse your care. I love you too. With every piece of me, hröa and fëa, I love you.” He snuggled close, feeling small and safe with Maedhros wrapped around him. “You’re much braver than me,” he added quietly. “Here--if you let me go half a minute I’ll get the fire burning brighter--warmer--and grab a waterskin. Maybe…maybe you could tell me a story? Or…or I could tell you about…um…oh!... I could tell you about when our girls and packhorse ran across wild horses on the way out here. Some of them weren’t the kindest to the latter, but you should have seen how our girls reacted! They make quite the team. And they all seem happy to be out here in the middle of nowhere with me--us.”

Maedhros smiled. "I have never been braver than you," Maedhros assured him. "You have always had the courage to love, and that is the bravest anyone could ever be. You loved me when I was unlovable, trusted me when I betrayed you, and you have waited ages for me. We shall care for each other, always." He squeezed Fingon and smiled. "Come on, let us get dressed. You can tell me as we walk."

Nodding, Fingon leaned forward to kiss his husband before standing and hopping, trying to wriggling into his clothing while touching the ground with bare feet for the least amount of time necessary and without letting go of the blanket cocoon within which he was ensconced. He added logs to the fire while telling Maedhros about their horses, and grabbed a full water skin, slinging the strap over his shoulder. “Shall we take a walk on the beach while the fire heats up, my love?” I remember such lovely walks along it with you. We can even dip our toes in the star water on the way back…if you don’t mind me warming my feet on your calves when we crawl back into bed. You always feel so good and warm, Russ. Sometimes I'm afraid I'm turning to ice.

"You never could, Fin," Maedhros said. "You know ice--that doesn't mean you will become it. But yes," he added with a chuckle. "My body is yours." He dressed and took Fingon's hands, pulling him close. "I had rather thought we might go further afield." He glanced up at the highest peak. "I know I feel safer up there," he whispered.

“Oh! Ah… that sounds good. Should we bring food? And probably the bed rolls. And blankets, even if you’ll keep me warm.” Fingon leaned against his husband, tilting his head to look up at him. “What do you think the lake look likes from up there when it’s bathed only in starlight? I imagine it must be beautiful.”

"I do wonder," Maitimo said, "but it cannot be more beautiful than you." He smiled, kissing Fingon again. "Yes, all right. We should pack a bedroll, and a blanket, and as much water as we can carry. We'll gather food on the way." He knelt to roll up the mat and blanket. "I shall be your pillow if you do not mind leaving it behind."

“As you wish.” They packed quickly and Fingon stood at the fire for a time, holding his hands out and trying to warm himself before they ventured into the cold. Their packing was not nearly as neat as it had been for their honeymoon--he had only brought one proper bag here and had not thought to bring extra silverware or enough clothing and equipment for two Eldar. “Ready? May I hold your hand as we walk?” He put out the fire, covering the remains with sand, and slipped into place at Maedhros’ side. This feels good--it feels right to be beside you. Thank you. They set off towards the heights, guided by starlight and moonlight.

"Of course," Maedhros said, taking Fingon's hand and smiling at him. "And if you are still cold you may have my arm, and if you want more you may have me as your blanket. But the moon is beautiful, and the stars on our skin light our way, and you are beautiful and neither of us want to sleep. I love you. Now tell me about the horses?" he said with a grin.

“I am but a poor reflection of thy beauty, my prince. Our horses…well, I mentioned that they were waiting by the house when I found them? Apparently quite a few… others… tried to remove them. They’re beautiful and strong and courageous- who wouldn’t be proud to have such animals by their side? They still haven’t shared everything that happened, but needless to say when I arrived they were there waiting and let me walk right up to them and even take a ride on my mare.” He looked at Maedhros, squeezing his hand. “Your horse missed you terribly. We should see if we can find some carrots or something special on the way down. And when we return to our house I’d like to start giving them something special every day. They were loyal to us, Russ. And they protected one another and waited.”

Maedhros blinked away the threat of tears. "Yes, of course they were. Beautiful, wonderful beasts." He squeezed Fingon's hand. "I'm glad they were there for you. You are absolutely right. I intend to spoil them at least as much as I want to spoil you." He grinned. "Ah, here, more berry bushes," he pointed out, and they paused. "We should gather them for our climb."

“I’ll gather greens if you gather berries,” Fingon offered as he looked around the clearing. “Mmm! And apples!” They worked quickly and efficiently, though Fingon had retrieved sufficient greens faster than the berries could be collected. He wandered over to Maedhros, putting his hands behind his back and looking up at his cousin. “May I have a berry please?” He grinned, opening his mouth and eyeing the treat in his husband’s hand.

"You may have your fill of them," Maedhros smiled, placing one at Fingon's lips. "I love how it stains your lips red. Like that time you--" he blushed, "well, we already remembered that." He pressed another berry past Fingon's lips.

“Now you’re pretty and red, too.” Fingon raised a hand, tracing his fingers along Maedhros’ cheek. “Forgive me, arimeldanya, but I simply must kiss you.” He leaned up, brushing his stained lips against Maedhros’ flushed cheek before turning and help to pick a final few berries. “Would you tell me about something--anything? A story or a thought or a memory?”

Once Maedhros recovered from the kiss, he smiled. "The only story I know is about a merelda and his Elda lover. It's a long and rambling story, what I remember of it--and it has some--dark--portions, but it is not entirely unpleasant, and the lovers are happy. Would you like to hear it?"

“Hmm, it sounds very special, a merelda and an Elda. Do you think they must have been made for one another? I should very much like to hear it, and perhaps, together, we can brighten some of the dark portions and replace anguish with love.” Fingon’s eyes filled with tears as he thought of their story and long nights curled up by the fire or in bed as they worked on it. He laughed, rubbing at them with the heels of his hands. “Do you see what you’re doing to me, Russ? You’re making a mess of me.”

The tale was one they began to write together in Aman when they were young and newly married, a silly tale that turned into a sprawling thing, spanning many tomes with notes and pictures. They had been destroyed in the Darkening, but had been rewritten, the dark portions written to cope with the dark times in Beleriand. 

Maedhros pulled Fingon close. "You're not a mess. You're perfect." He sighed as he thought back. "Well, it all began in a storm. The Elda fell into the water, and the merelda saved him. When he woke, he found they could not even understand each other--but they kissed, almost instinctively. The merelda, Fin, he was very gentle and caring as he nursed Russ back to health." He squeezed Fingon. "Am I missing anything so far?"

"Only that the merelda saved the Elda because he couldn't stand the thought of someone dying in the waves he was playing in, but after he had saved him he had the chance to just look at the Elda and he realized no fairer being existed, and his Elda in looks and in patience and kindness as they tried to communicate was perfection to him. His fëa cried out for its other half, separated all their lives but finally understanding that he had not been whole... and now he, they, could be." Fingon smiled at Maedhros. "But I suppose that is more how Irissë might tell the tale. Your words were both true and constantly moving the plot forward." Squeezing his husband's hand again, Fingon separated enough to help Maedhros finish collecting berries before they continued their hike.

"No, you're right," Maedhros said. "That's an important part of the story." He chuckled. "Do you remember how shy the Elda was about showing himself? And do you remember how the merelda hesitated before they bonded? He didn't want to hurt the fragile land creature, nor pressure him into such a relationship. He was positively a gentleman. But still they didn't wait long," he added with a grin.

"Not nearly as long as we did." Their hands squeezed each other briefly. "Of course, dear Fin came from such a different culture. Oh! And bonding helped them communicate!" He grinned, nudging Russ as they walked and no longer feeling cold. "I love our story. That has been... an amazing thing to create. And, as I think grandfather would agree, a type of art in and of itself."

"Oh, I agree," Maedhros said, slipping his arm around Fingon's waist. "The highest form of art I have ever participated in." He kissed Fingon's brow. "I liked when they had their home on the island, and how the home was built so that they were both comfortable, even from different worlds as they were."

"I'm half tempted to construct it, our descriptions have been so beautiful." He tilted his head up, lips brushing the corner of Maedhros' mouth. "Would you like a house by the sea?"

Maedhros hummed. He remembered Alqualondë, and hesitated. "I would like a house anywhere with you. If our kin at Alqualondë would have us, then yes. But I quite like our house where it is. And I do not exaggerate that I would be happy living here for the rest of our lives with the sky as roof and the grass as bed, if only I lived with you." He kissed Fingon's offered lips.

"I want to give you a kitchen, eventually. Even if you can be happy without it, I know how much you love creating I the kitchen at our house or at Atar's." Fingon smiled , leaning against Maedhros. "I'll even do all the dishes when we get home of you'll cook for is." He dropped the question of a sea house and the idea of Alqualondë, not keen on thinking of it or of any other Eldar. He seemed as disquieted by that place as their merelda Fin was of its harbor.

"Oh, yes, a kitchen," Maedhros said, and pondered. "Well, we could build one of those outdoor kitchens, and it could be wood-heated," he said with a smile. "Or we could build a new house here, on the lake--" he laughed, "and tell no one where we lived so they couldn't bother us."

"Except 'Rissë and Turko," Fingon murmured. "But they wouldn't hurt us, and they wouldn't tell if we asked them not to. Well, unless your father were looking for us. Or grandfather. Maybe my father, too. Then they might." He shrugged. "We should design an outdoor kitchen, even if it's just for fun. But I'll also enjoy sitting on the counter at our house and helping dice veg or something while you create amazing foods."

Maedhros laughed. "They were only amazing because you were so appreciative. I ever strove to make you happier and happier." He pulled Fingon close to him as they continued to walk. "Yes, an outdoor kitchen. Perhaps by the pool? Then we can play at merelda for a dinner." He grinned, blushing slightly.

"That sounds perfect. I look forward to cooking and dining with you there." Fingon continued to steal glances at his husband as they walked, needing to nudge him or tug at his hair or squeeze his hand to confirm for himself that his husband was with him. Color rose in his cheeks each time Maedhros caught him at it, and he would smile shyly before focusing on their path and on the views. "Is it as beautiful up here as you remember? The valley looks different without the light of the Trees, though it is still gorgeous to my eyes."

"It's more beautiful," Maedhros said, "because now we have something to compare it to." He kissed Fingon's hand and then swung it idly as they walked. "I like it better with the Sun and Moon, actually."

“The light passes over it different. I miss the mingling, though.” Fingon smiled slightly as Maedhros’ hand squeezed his. “Though I shouldn’t miss anything, now that I have you. I’ve told you before--in my eyes you outshine even the mingling of the lights of the Trees.” He glanced at Maedhros, remade and whole, and remembered him tormented and maimed. He thought of him resolute and proud, terrifying the orcs even more in the later days than he had when they first arrived in Beleriand. He remembered Maedhros, fevered and scarred and ill, body curled against his side and holding him as a child might clutch at a favorite stuffed toy. “That is true now, as it has always been.”

Maedhros blinked tears back--he remembered those times, but seeing himself through Fingon's eyes made him seem brave and beautiful at the times where he felt most depraved and wretched. And all that mattered now was that they were home, and more than that, they were together. They were now where the ground rose up steeply. "Are we ready to climb?"

“We are. Though I find myself…not at all pleased at the thought of having to let go of your hand. I suppose it shall be worth it to be at the top together.” They embraced, Fingon kissing his husband before he stepped back. “Shall I lead us on another adventure, my prince?”

"Please," Maedhros said, and stepped up close behind Fingon. "Shall I follow you close, like I did when you were small, always touching you so you won't fall?"

Fingon exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing in relief. “That would be nice. Yes, please.” He enjoyed the feeling of warm fingers against his back for several seconds as he plotted their course up the mountainside. Then they were moving, and even more than in the valley, it felt as though they were the only two people left in a vast wilderness. Fëar mingling, they scaled the first portion of the climb in what seemed like a brief amount of time, though they had not been climbing with undue haste. “I cannot wait to get to the top and see our valley,” Fingon whispered. Even looking down from where they were the valley was beautiful, filled with foliage in hundreds of shades of green.

Maedhros took a few steps higher up so he could kiss Fingon's neck. "It can't be as beautiful as you, I promise," he said. "And it is very beautiful." Climbing to an outcropping they stopped and looked down. "I think I stumbled more those first times we climbed this cliff. The first I was nervous because I loved you too much, and the second time I was too excited." He chuckled, though his eyes glazed as he remembered what they did up here that second time, and how it was like being born. A fire began to wake in him, low but hot. "Would you like some water now? Or should we go on?"

"A little water would be nice. After that I'm ready to go on." Fingon's cheeks took on a hint of red as he caught the direction of Maedhros' thoughts, and he took on a slightly dazed look. "Every time we climbed here has been special. And I'm very glad to be back here again." He accepted the waterskin from his cousin, taking long sips before he passed it back and watched Maedhros drink, eyes following the movement of his throat as he swallowed. "Ready?"

"Definitely," Maedhros said, taking the waterskin back and now climbing with excitement thrumming in him like the blood pounding in his ears. Fingon smelled wonderful, and everything about this moment was so real: the wind, the rock, and Findekáno. He gave Fingon a firm push once they reached the top.

"Russ!" Fingon laughed, turning to help his husband up the last ledge. "Valar," he added, "I can still feel your hand against me--your touch burns, but in the best way." He felt marked, and was surprisingly pleased by that. After several seconds his peripheral vision caught the view behind Maedhros and he stepped forward, grabbing Maedhros and turning him. "Russ, it's _perfection_." The lake shimmered in the morning sun, rippling where fish jumped. There was enough wind to turn the fields and forests into a mesmerizing, ever changing picture as they rustled and bent as the air currents shifted. He squeezed Maedhros' hand, looking at his husband again, glowing in the light of the fruit of Laurelin, and his heart sang, filled with the word home.

"Oh, Fin," Maedhros said, and wept openly, suddenly sure that all of it, everything, was worth it for this moment. He folded Fingon in his arms as they watched the sun rise over the lake as they felt the wind teasing their hair. "Findekáno," he whispered after a time. "Will you kiss me?" The fire in him was burning hotter.

Fingon tilted his head up and rose on the balls of his feet, pressing against his husband as he moved to kiss him. "You could not ask for something I would more willingly do." He twisted a hand in Maedhros' hair as their mouths came together. Mara tuilë, ammoina. He pulled back, smiling. "Have I mentioned, this morning, how very much I love thee?"

Maedhros snorted softly. "You do know the sun has just risen, right?" He pulled Fingon against him, grasping his backside, kneading the flesh. He leaned in for a kiss, nipping Fingon's bottom lip as he sucked it into his mouth.

What better way to start the day than with saying that I love thee? It is as true as ever, and I very much like telling you. Fingon groaned, one hand twisting at Maedhros’ hair while the other shifted from his side to his back to his shoulder. “You’re threatening to start things, arimeldanya,” he warned when their lips parted. “Careful.” He was just managing to keep from grinding against his husband, but the desire was there.

"I--I want--I think I want to start--" he panted, dropping his head to suck at Fingon's neck, their bodies sliding together. "Want you, Fin--" he gasped, "can I--" He threw his bag and the bedroll to the ground, propping Fingon up against it. "Do you have any oil? Or--or we can take it slow. I want you so much." The fire was now roaring in him, loud in his ears. "I love you. I love you. I'm ready. Can we?"

“Yours.” Fingon’s voice half broke as he spoke. “Of course we can. I’m yours.” Fingon reached out to his husband, hands sliding up and down his sides before playing with the fabric of his shirt. “There’s… I think there’s a little oil still. It’s in a jar bundled with the cooking herbs. I’ve had to travel back to the house a few time to stock up… or maybe I did at first, but not recently? ‘m not sure.” He shook his head, choosing to instead to focus on his husband and to wrap a leg around one of Maedhros’. “You want… this, us, now? If you aren’t certain… I would wait an eternity for you if you asked it of me.”

I'm ready, Maedhros repeated, kissing Fingon as he fumbled around in the bag, eventually cursing and giving up. "Lay out the bed," he said, as he was forced to give his full attention to the search.

Fingon relaxed, kicking at the bedroll until it opened completely. “When you ask so nicely,” he teased, rolling his eyes. He stripped off his shoes and shirt before making an attempt to arrange himself artfully on the fabric. He squirmed briefly, feeling desire as he had not in a long while, and the next time Maedhros looked at him his eyes were nearly black with arousal.

Finding the oil, Maedhros crawled back to Fingon with a grin on his face. "Would you rather me ask more nicely, or more roughly?" he said, stepping his knee between Fingon's legs. "Darling," he purred, kissing his neck.

“Beloved,” Fingon sighed. He touched Maedhros’ shoulder gently. “Nicely, for this time. I… I would want only to revel in the joy of our union. I wish to be one with you before we consider playing games.”

"That is what I desire, too. I'm sorry in my haste I spoke quickly. Will you forgive me? And will you remove your trousers, please?" Maedhros drew a blanket around them as he tugged off his shirt and shoes.

“No need to apologize, but if you feel you should it is accepted, of course.” Fingon wiggled out of his trousers, kicking them off and shifting closer to Maedhros. “I remember making love to you here. The sky looked a little different, though I can still see the giant sickle and our sky bunny.” The latter was a constellation glowing brightly in the changed sky. “That night is still one of my favorite memories.”

"'Sky bunny' does nothing for the mood, Finno," Maedhros teased gently, as he kissed across his neck and chest. "Though I do not think much could dissuade me from my desire for you. T-tell me--have you--" Done this in a long time? Touched yourself? Will you be as tight as you were the first time we learned each others' bodies? I don't want to hurt you. He warmed a bit of oil on his fingers, but Fingon was right, there was very little of the stuff, and he would have to make it count.

Fingon shook his head, looking just over Maedhros' shoulder. "I tried, at first. But... it wasn't the same. I didn't work and my fëa ached around the missing part of me. I hated the way that felt so I haven't. Not while I'm awake, at least."

Maedhros took Fingon's chin in his hand, locking their eyes together as he began to stroke Fingon's sex in his fist. "Well this is real, Finno. This is the missing part of you, as you are the missing part of me, more than my hand ever was. And I am going to be very gentle and take it very slow and I am going to love you like it's our first time--because it is." He captured Fingon's lips in his, and lifted one leg up over his shoulder before he began massaging his entrance with oil.

"You keep _trying_ to make me love you even more, when I already do so with every fiber of my being," Fingon whispered. He moaned at his husband's gentle teasing, eyes moving to focus on Maedhros' face, not looking away as his husband began to prepare him. "I want this. Want to be yours again." Our second first time--that sounds wonderful.

Maedhros chuckled. "Our second first time," he echoed, taking Fingon's fat lips in a hungry kiss. "Open up to me. Want everything. Need everything," he whispered, as he slipped a finger inside. "Let me know if I'm going too fast. Love you," he said, and kissed Fingon's neck and chest, free hand tangling in his hair. He stopped, suddenly, looking down at how he was arranged. "Would you like me to do this left- or right-handed?" he asked sheepishly, for his left was the one between Fingon's legs.

"Either." Fingon smiled brilliantly, wrapping both arms around Maedhros. Blinking, he tried to clear his eyes. "I want both of them touching me. So glad you're here. And you're whole." He guided Maedhros’ hand from his hair to his lips and pressed them against smooth knuckles, squeezing briefly. As he released it, he leaned up and brought their lips together.

Maedhros kissed Fingon as he slid his right hand down Fingon's body, gently scratching his chest and belly before taking his sex in hand. "Wholly yours," he whispered, kissing Fingon's eyelids reverently. He dipped his fingers in oil and pressed two inside Fingon slowly. "I love you."

"Love you most." Fingon's breath hitched and he bit his lips as he tried to loosen his muscles and relax. "Don't know what to do, Russ. I want to close my eyes and I never want to stop looking at you. I want to relax and give my hröa to you, and I want to wrap myself around you, kissing you and moving against you with the same passion I feel through our bond." For the moment he remained mostly still, until a thought occurred to him and he looked at Maedhros with bright eyes. "Our first joining," he murmured quietly. "My husband,” he said, reaching out to run a hand down Maedhros' side, cradling his head with the other, “for my first vow--I will cherish you, and care for you as you have ever cared for me. I will ever seek to keep you safe, and well, and I shall hold your hröa more precious than my own.” He pulled Maedhros to him, and sealed the vow with another kiss.

Tears sprung to Maedhros' eyes as the vow was rekindled in his heart, and his föa sang in answer: "I am yours as you are mine," he whispered, "and my heart will ever beat only for you," he vowed.

Fingon grabbed Maedhros' hand, pulling it to lay across his breast. "As mine shall ever beat only for you." I love you, vennonya. Do you recall how perfect that night was? Our bonding... I have never experienced anything like it. Our promises, and our joining, were true perfection. I could not imagine my life without them.

"Fin--Finno, you are my life. That night was like--" he swallowed, shaking his head. "That night was the best of my life, but this, now, is better. It has to be better. When we were children we had very little unhappiness to compare our happiness to--to appreciate it. Now--now that I have known life without you, my love, I _know_ that my only happiness is from you."

Fingon sniffled, a few escaping tears making their way down his cheeks. "My thoughts mirror your own, Russ. Tyë melin." He gasped as his husband's fingers moved inside him, pressing against them and fighting against years of memories from their time together. "Assistance. I--ah--I vow assistance to you, should you need it or want it." Fingon reached up to run his fingers through Maedhros' hair, again tucking escaping strands behind his ear. "You always protected us and took care of us. You spent so much time trying to help resolve issues and heal injuries--both the skinned knees and the less visible ones. You were kind and wonderful and you lit up my world." He broke off with a groan as clever fingers hit a spot deep inside him. When he spoke again he was flushed and slightly dizzy, as though the mountain had tumbled away below them and all that existed was his husband and the sky. "My caretaker and teacher, negotiator and unifier, whether you need someone to see to your own needs, or help take care of someone or something else, if by learning or doing a thing, by debating an issue with you or letting you bounce ideas off me, should you need my strength, my voice, my body, they are yours at need.” He leaned up, kissing Maedhros softly before falling back with a quiet moan.

Maedhros hissed as Fingon's desire was overwhelming him, and he kissed him and teased him with both hands, as he had almost forgotten how to do. And then his second vow came to his mind and he was crying before he could get the words out. "I would be ruled by you," he said, "where I failed before--and what would keep me from failing again, if I were to bow to your desires and yield to your word. Findekáno, I love thee. I want to do this for you, to be better: to keep this vow to you."

"I am yours as you are mine," Fingon whispered reverently. If anyone failed us it must have been me. You couldn't, my light. Not really. Fingon kissed him reverently. "I would be ruled by you, though in truth our wants and needs shall largely be the same--our bond is complete once more. And I love you with all that I am." Inside me Russ. Please? I need you, beloved.

Maedhros have Fingon a preparatory stretch with a third finger, and with his free hand used the last of the oil to slick himself. "Oh, Fin," he gasped, "oh, Findekáno, I love thee. Mine. Be mine? As I am yours?" He kissed Fingon. "Okay, push out gently, I've got you," he said as he entered his beloved.

“Tenn’ ambar metta, my love.” Arching from the pain and pressure, Fingon pulled Maedhros into another kiss, desperate to focus on something else. Oh, _Valar_ , Russ. You’re inside me. You’re in me. We’re together. He shivered, tasting salt at the edge of his husband’s mouth before he pulled back. “I am yours as you are mine. Forever, remember. That was, and is, my third vow. Deeper? Please. Need you all the way in inside me, until we forget where you end and I begin.” After a brief nod Maedhros pressed against him until they lay flush against one another.

Fingon wrapped his arms around his husband, eyes closing briefly as he thought back on the words of his third vow. “My final vow was, and is, forever, and I swear to thee, my fëa shall be joined to thine by choice and by solemn promise. Even should our hröar be destroyed I would find thee or wait for thee. I did, my prince, my dearest Russandol, and if I had to again I would do so without hesitation. I vow to be your husband, your other half. Your needs and wants shall be mine, as mine shall be yours. Where one leads, the other shall follow. No power shall sunder us but for a small time. Tenn’ ambar meta, Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol, and even beyond time itself, I am yours, hröa, mind and fëa.”

The rush of memories that came with the bonding, those memories he was perhaps not supposed to remember, filled him with a beautiful sadness, or else a tragic joy, like the doomed but valiant people they ultimately were. He kissed Fingon gently, hiding still because this was important. "Findekáno Poldórëa, I name Eru Iluvatar as witness that I vow none shall part us forever, that I should be joined to you for ever, tenn' ambar-metta." He kissed Fingon again, ever so gently, and clasped the back of his neck and his leaking cock and began to move.

Watery eyes met Maedhros' gaze as Fingon answered him in a voice marked by hitched breaths and gasps. "I swear before Eru--" He broke off, holding Maedhros tightly for a minute. "I swear none shall truly part us. I am yours--my Russandol--as you are mine." Then Fingon _was_ crying as saw what his husband's life had been like after their first parting at the edge of the sea and again after his death. Never again, he thought desperately. You'd have to take me with you. Maitimo I _love_ you. And he did, no matter what haunted their pasts, and he always would. Then Maedhros moved in him, meeting his gaze, and the hurt and anguish were overtaken by boundless love and the many years of praise that Maedhros had bestowed upon him over the course of his life in word and in thought. Fingon managed a smile after that, rubbing Maedhros' back as he encouraged him to move.

"Not hurting you?" He whispered, moving slowly but trying to find that angle that Fingon needed so much--that he needed to feel in Fingon, his own pleasure almost overwhelming. "Thank you. I love you. Oh, Findekáno, never again," he sobbed. "I love you."

"Inyë tyë-mela." Fingon leaned up for a kiss. "Not hurting me. It's... it's been so long. I'll be sore, but I don't care. It's better to be with you." He shook his head, shifting his hips as he worked with Maedhros to find the angle he needed. When his husband did his the spot inside him perfectly, Fingon clenched unconsciously and arched up, mouth falling open with a moan. "Russandol!" Perfect, good, bliss, pleasure. Want your pleasure, darling. Want to feel you unable to control yourself as we seek our pleasure. Their bond was fully open, thoughts and feelings flowing between them, and Fingon almost sobbed at the pure beauty of the moment.

"First _you_ will feel so," Maedhros promised, the look of bliss on Fingon's face enough to send him over the edge already, but he kept his wits about him and proceeded in short, shallow thrusts against the same spot. "Love you, my darling. My ever love, my Findekáno, my Valiant." Fingon's pleasure and joy only magnified his own, and Maedhros felt his movements become more ragged and desperate.

"Russ!" Fingon fell back against the sheets, trembling as he moved against Maedhros. "Yours. You forgot my most important title." Then Maedhros leaned down to kiss him and there was nothing but pleasure until they separated for panting breaths. "Ready? 'm close, Russ. Please? May I-- shall we?"

"Findekáno, I've been ready for three ages," Maedhros said, a bittersweet joke as he sucked on the side of his throat. "Fin--nnuhh--Fin!" he gasped, hips jerking and limbs squeezing the body below him as with a few final thrusts he finished. He was home.

Fingon wrapped himself around his husband as much as he could; he was moaning his husband's name as he finished. This was pleasure. This was bliss. He was where he was supposed to be- they were with the Elda they were meant to be. They were home. He buried his face in his husband's neck, hands grabbing at his hair as his body slowly relaxed. His tears mingled with Maedhros' sweat. Thank you. This is... this is everything. The bond, he meant. I love you, my husband, my prince, my light. I am yours, and I love you. And you are mine and we shall be together tenn' ambar metta.

He would let nothing break their bond. Not like last time. It would be easier to break himself. Again. "I won't let it happen again," Maedhros promised, a lot hanging from that "it." He sighed as they both went soft, and he pulled out carefully as he held Fingon close. "I love you. I love you. I know you know it but I like to say it," he said with a small, breathy laugh, and rested against Fingon's chest as he rested against his fëa.

"I love hearing it," Fingon admitted easily, hugging Maedhros and whimpering as he eased out of him. He smiled at his husband, adding, "I love you, too." Maedhros' weight was comforting above him and they stayed like that for a long while, Fingon's legs lowering to relax against the ground and his fingers tracing aimless paths along his husband's back and through his hair. Thank you for finding me- for making me whole.

"Thank _you_ ," Maedhros whispered. For waiting. For never giving up on me. I love you. He smiled and kissed the bruise on Fingon's neck, eventually heaving himself up to arrange the bed below and the blanket above them, though with the sun rising, it was warm but not too hot. "Do you think you can sleep now?" Maedhros teased softly.

Fingon worried his lip as he considered this answer. "I am tired," he admitted. "You'll hold me?" His husband nodded. "Will you sleep with me? If we can share a dream... we'll still be together and it will be better." But Maedhros hadn't slept well either, and he wouldn't-- couldn't-- press his husband to sleep again if he wasn't ready to risk tormenting dreams.

"I think we shall have to sleep together if we are to sleep at all," Maedhros agreed. He kissed Fingon's brow. "It's safe to sleep now. I'll be here. Can't you feel me crushing you? I won't move, I won't let go."

"Neither will I," Fingon promised. "I'll cling to you and protect you while we dream. Do you think we might dream of Finn and Russ' island?" It would be safe, he thought, as well as very beautiful and filled with the imaginings of wonderful nights curled up together with paper and pen.

"I would love such a dream," Maedhros beamed, kissing Fingon's eyelids closed. "I love you," he whispered, humming their song as they drifted off to sleep together.

Fingon squeezed his arms around Maedhros. Even as he drifted off one hand remained clench around a lock of Maedhros' hair, as had ben his custom when he was very you and his cousin would rock him to sleep. Love you, he thought. He was still frightened, but his husband was with him, their bond fully opened, and wanted him to sleep. With Maedhros beside him Fingon thought he could be brave. When at last the world spun away he was cocooned safely beside Maedhros, and when he opened his eyes on the shore of a beautiful beach, seated next to the warm stream that was fed by the hot springs, he barely had time to look around before his husband joined him.

Maedhros smiled at the dream. "Your tail is beautiful," he said, and he could almost feel the cool, rubbery flesh where he reached out to touch it, and soon he forgot he was in a dream at all. Russ and Fin were without care: as long as the sea was calm their lives were perfect, and even when there were storms they were safe in their house or under the waves. The water was blue, the Light of the Trees (they hadn't changed that in their story, even after other things in their story had changed) golden, and Fin was small and beautiful, but strong and fierce, almost wild, and Russ almost tragically domestic. "I made these for you," he said, and began dressing Fingon in pieces of jewelry that would take even his father hundreds of years to make: crowns and rings and necklaces and armbands and earrings and bracelets, pearls and diamonds and sapphires and rubies and silver and gold and copper until his merelda husband might have been wearing more than the cost of their house (and a sizeable portion of its weight, possibly, but this was a dream).

“Russ! Russ it’s all beautiful!” Fingon laughed, raising his arms and listening to the tinkling of hundreds of gems and of gold, copper, and silver bands and chains clinking against each other. “You’re spoiling me again, my love!” He reached up, taking Maedhros’ hand delicately and squeezing it. He felt… different. The tail was odd and yet, in the dream, it felt right. And Maedhros looked like a living flame bathed once more in Laurelin’s light. “Are there things that I can put on you as well? Not that any gem could outshine you in my eyes, but I should like to see you draped in the best craftsmanship of the Noldor as well.”

Maedhros crawled closer, and with a laugh lifted Fin in his arms and onto his lap. "You are the only beauty that I could wear to outshine those you wear," he teased, pressing their noses together. He lay back, warm in the sand as he toyed with Fin's hair. "We should go for a swim," he suggested suddenly, eager to see what it felt like, if in a dream.

“Decked in piles worth of the best jewels of the Noldor?” Laughing, Fingon grinned at his husband. “I can try that. Or should we… ah… set them somewhere safe before we venture off?” Not that it mattered. This was just a dream--but it was a good dream, and there was no reason to treat Maedhros’ designs--and they were all his husband’s designs--as meaningless trinkets.

Maedhros shrugged, and when he glanced back at the beach, they were littered with gems and pearls and bright treasures. "And yet you are the finest treasure to my eyes," he said, and kissed him. "We shall leave them, but only so you can swim unimpeded."

“And then when we return, glistening in the light of the Trees, we can put them on each other again.” Fingon worked with Maedhros to remove the treasures, grinning. As the last one was set aside, he looked up at his husband, slightly puzzled. In response to his thoughts, he felt his tail thump the sand. “Ah… arimeldanya? How do I get to the water?”

Maedhros laughed. "I don't know. Wriggle?" he teased, "Or I could carry you." He stood with a groan and lifted Fingon into his arms. He was slippery but fun to hold.

“I feel… heavy,” Fingon said. He wriggled in Maedhros’ arms. “Strong, though. I think I’m going to like swimming with you. And we can kiss breathe!” I bet we could get to the nearby water forest. Would you like to visit it?

Maedhros, interested to see how Fingon would fare swimming in this dream ocean, nodded. He took a deep breath--but of course it was a dream ocean, and he could breathe it if he tried, though he pretended he couldn't so as to receive more dream-kiss-breaths.

They walked into the water, and when Maedhros submerged them Fingon felt wild and free. A flick of his tail and he knew how to use it, how to dance through the water like they had written about in ages long past. Russ! This is perfect! Russ? He laughed with the sheer joy of swimming, opening and closing his gills before he caught his husband’s lips in an unending kiss. I love you, Russ. I love this, and… can you feel how it feels to swim with a tail? This is amazing! But most of all, as ever, as always, I love you.

Maedhros smiled. I can feel it through you, he answered, but then he closed his eyes and let Fin bear him through the water. But I can feel how it is to be carried through the water by one who swims with a tail, and that is all I have ever desired, he said with a smile as he kissed Fingon's cheek and clung tight to his neck.

I think we’re coming up to our forest. Are you ready to see something spectacular? I can’t wait to find out how our… our shared visions of it have melded together here. He spun them in a lazy corkscrew as they moved forward, eyes widening as waving kelp leaves appeared and suddenly they were within a world of bright colors and patterned fish. Oh, darling. It’s more than I could have dreamed! Shifting sea currents kept the floor of plants constantly shifting and curling while fish darted in and out of them. A turtle was swimming by overhead, appearing to chase the bright spots of treelight that reached the forest floor. All around them was a swirl of colors, and the shades of green and purple appeared myriad to his eyes as did the shapes of plants- more plants than he knew about from his studies as a youth in Aman. Darling, you’ve given us our own Lorien!

Maedhros cried out in a rush of bubbles that made the ocean dance even more beautifully. He could _see_ it, now, not like Russ who could only see blurs of color underwater: and the salt didn't sting his eyes. Oh, Fin! he said, overwhelmed by the beauty of the forest that only they could reach. He felt safe here, safe and alone, as he always did in Fingon's arms. My beloved.

My prince, Fingon answered. His lips tugged into a small smile even as they continued their kiss. Do you think we could ride the turtle? Without waiting for an answer he sped up, chasing after it to try to latch onto its shell. Their mouths parted for a moment as he laughed, loving the warmth of the water in patches of Treelight and the colors and the power of his tail and loving Maedhros warm and safe in his arms, heart beating steadily and bond revealing nothing but joy. I love you! I love this! I love our beautiful sea forest! They were safe here, he thought. And he felt… he felt strong and swift in the water. Nothing could hurt Russ, hurt them. He wouldn’t allow it. All was fair and bright and lovely, the reaching leaves of a few plants kissing them as they caught up to their turtle.

They had it presently, and the turtle merely rolled his eyes and carried on, albeit at a slower pace. Russ realized he felt the protected, not the protector, here, in this world, and he liked very much being so. The turtle wasn't nearly as fun as Fin, though it was exciting to have caught up to him, and eventually they let go, fingers interlaced. Can I hold onto your tail? Russ asked suddenly, wondering how the movement would be different and if it would be fun, too.

"Of course!" Fingon giggled at the bubbles issues forth as he spoke. He shook his head. That was strange. And fun. Kiss me, beloved? Then he relaxed his hold on Maedhros, letting his husband grab onto his tail. We can swim near the surface so that you'll have opportunities to breathe. And we can even beach and jump a bit! If he hadn't been swimming Fingon would have rubbed his hands together in glee. This is going to be a beautiful, fantastic, wondrous, glorious day, light of my life.

Maedhros laughed as he grabbed hold of the table, no pinching, no pulling, because this was a dream, and he laughed as Fingon suddenly propelled them through the water, undulating enough that it carried through to Russ' body. The ocean blurred past. Whee! He cried.

Fingon led them on a wild swim, jumping and diving, making tight turns that caused Maedhros to rock behind him, almost flying off to one side. He laughed at the sounds pouring across their bond. Having fun, arimelda?

Maedhros laughed in reply. "Yes!" He cried, forgetting that he couldn’t speak under water, yet his voice was heard, and in surprise he let go and had to paddle toward the surface

Shaking his head the merelda chased after his husband, arms slipping around his waist as he quickly caught up. The broke the surface, and Fingon shook his head wildly, water flying in all directions. “Hmm--is it just me, or did we forget to make the sea water… sea water-y? It tastes like the most pure mountain stream! Or is that something that came with the tail?” He looked down at himself, moving it lazily to stay upright.

"It tastes like you," Russ said, which perhaps made more sense in his head but made Fin smile, and he kissed him. "You're so strong and fast!" he marveled. "I can't believe it. It's so fun!"

"It is! This is... a wonderful way to relax. And I feel so... so strong in the water! I think I could swim an entire day without becoming overtired." Fingon kissed his husband gently. "Hmm... what to do for the rest of our adventure... Russ? This is a dream right? A good dream?" His husband nodded. "Do you want to try having a tail? I bet if we both wished it we could swim around as too mereldar. I bet you'd be incredible as a merelda."

Russ balked, but Maedhros was intrigued. "Do you think I could? Wouldn't that spoil it?" He grinned broadly. "How else am I supposed to get into trouble and require you to save me?" and then laughed. When he looked down again--a tail! "Fin! Look!" He flapped his tail a few times experimentally, and then dove underwater. After corkscrewing awkwardly for a few feet he got the hang of it, and darted at Fin, wrapping his arms around him.

Fingon laughed and leaned forward, rubbing their noses together. "I was feeling so large before," he said, somewhat wistfully. He had been, in the water where head to tail he had been significantly longer than an Elda--even his tall Russandol. He grinned. Now I feel small again. Secure and slender and safe in your arms. Do you want to explore the forest again, now that you needn't be kissing me--well, not kissing me the _entire_ time?

"I always need to kiss you," Maedhros said, tackling him in the water as they swam lazily through the gardens, sometimes half-wrestling and sometimes just holding hands. "Let's go deep!" Maedhros said, suddenly excited. "Deeper than we've ever been!"

“But take my hand and I’ll go with you anywhere.” They shared a smile and, coming to the edge of the shallows, they took off into the deeps. The water grew darker but, Fingon privately mused that it was because they were now mereldar, they could still see clearly. And, with a sixth sense that _felt_ the water, he could judge where the currents were and how the water around them moved. It’s… it’s so quiet down here, Russ. Do you see anything?

It's quiet and exciting, Maedhros said, squeezing Fingon's hand and drawing nearer to him as they swam down, down, down. Oh! Yes, I think I see something! he realized, darting down. Faintly something was glowing ahead.

I see it too! Silent and in unison they moved toward the light. Is that…? It looked a little like a fish. A fish with glowing gems. A Fëanor fish, Fingon thought with a helpless mental laugh, before he got a good look at it. Then his thoughts stilled- it didn’t look like any sort of fish they had encountered before. My prince… what is it?”

"Finno, look," Maedhros said, and pointed: where on their lake, at the surface, there were little glowing stars, here there was almost a tiny glowing city. The fish glowed, the floor glowed, long seaweed glowed. The ocean was lit up.

“It’s beautiful,” Fingon whispered. “There’s an entire world down here… explore it with me?” He drifted closer to Maedhros, kissing his shoulder as they watched the ever changing city, lights shifting and blinking and seaweed and fish moved about.

Some of the fish looked nasty, but others just looked strange. Maedhros wrapped both arms around Fingon and they undulated together through the water. "Love this. Love you. It's so pretty here."

“It’s amazing. Is this… are we in your dream now?” Fingon glanced at Maedhros shyly (how long had it been since he had felt truly shy around his husband? Fingon imagined it must be part of the dream making him flush so readily and glance aside). “It’s beautiful. And… everything is set up elegantly, for all that this place appears naturally formed. There’s a simple beauty to it that reminds me of some of your parents’ works.” He shrugged, unsure how to explain it, and they drifted lower still until their tails brushed against parts of the seagreens.

"I don't know," Maedhros said. "We are dreaming, but together, I think. A book I once read, about the deep sea, and how things glow through some magic only our loremasters understand. It is cold down here," Maedhros added, keeping his arms around Fingon.

“But very beautiful.” For a half second Fingon’s thoughts turned to the cold and austere beauty of the ice flows of the north. He shook his head, hair waving being him, and rid himself of the image of the Helcaraxë. “I’ll keep you warm. Or did you want to go back to the surface and check out the hot spring?” He rubbed at Maedhros’ arms, trying to smooth the gooseflesh covering his husband’s skin.

"I don't want you to be cold," Maedhros corrected, wrapping his tail around Fingon's middle. "It is beautiful, but I think I would like to go back to the surface. To the hot spring. To where we can see the Light of the Trees." He kissed Fingon gently on the lips.

“That sounds nice.” Fingon reach down to feel Maedhros’ tail and then, unable to restrain himself, he drew his hand along the line where skin and tail merged, teasing the skin as his husband trembled. “I’ve missed them--Telperion and Laurelin,” he continued as though his hand was not still resting on Maedhros’ hip, thumb brushing against his skin. “The plants of Valinor thrive in their light--just as my world brightens when you are present. Shall we to the surface?”

"Oh!" Maedhros said, arching and wriggling. "Oh, you-- _ohh_." His eyes glazed over as he nodded. "Yes, please. Let's go up--and--and you can touch me like that again if you want."

"You'll have to tell me what it's like," Fingon informed him. "Or better yet, show me. Did that feel as good as what we wrote in our stories?" He moved his hand to a more respectable location after a last lingering brush of his fingers against Maedhros' tail. They kissed, surrounded by a world of fish and sea greens and suspended stars all around them. "I'll gladly touch you like that as often as you want. But for now... to our island!"

"Shall we see how fast we can really go?" Russ asked: "Race you to the surface!" he shouted, and took off toward the lightening water with his tail pumping. He let go of Fin's hand, but stayed near him, only really opening up his pace when Fin had caught up.

Small bubbles drifted from Fingon's mouth as he giggled, racing forward. Maedhros may have again become slightly larger and stronger, but his husband had the benefit of a few more hours of practice as a merelda and a habit of dirty fighting picked up from his sister and Maedhros' brothers. As they swam neck and neck, Fingon settled into a rhythm and began to think about the hot springs and about mereldar.

Russ? You know how... good things were for Russ and Fin? How amazing do you think a joining between two mereldar will be? Do you think we'll be able to take full advantage of the, ah, flexibility and control that cone with mereldar physiology? He sent a flash of thought across their bond of them floating in warm spring water, tails entwined and arousals wrapped around each other, slowly rotating in the water as they embraced and brought their lips together. Under water we needn't even stop kissing for a breath! He sent a thought of opening gills and the equivalent of deep breaths of clear air coming even as they lost themselves in each other.

Maedhros knew exactly what Fingon was doing--though it didn't mean it didn't work on Russ. He faltered, glancing at Fingon, and started half-awake. For a moment he floated between dream and waking, looking down at Fingon still covered in stars and asleep, and then he was looking up at him from under the water. "Fin, you tease!" he shouted as they breached, Russ well after Fin. "You cheat! You cheated!" he cried, pouncing on him and wrapping arms and tail around him.

“A-aah! Ruuuss!” Fingon gasped and moaned, struggling for breath and torn between giggling and closing his eyes to enjoy the sensations Maedhros was evoking. “What did you expect, beloved? You have a slighty longer tail and you’ve always been strong. I recall it being _your_  side of the family that taught me to use every advantage I could to win.” He leaned forward and kissed Maedhros’ cheek. “Mmm. That feels… incredible. Especially where you’re tail’s right along my hips--we should get back to the island. I have some ideas I’d like to try. Lots of ideas. And we can grab a snack on the way--there were some fruit trees along the cool stream, weren’t there?”

"Or seaweed, or fish," Russ said, shrugging as he rubbed his tail and hands over Fin's body where he knew it felt best. "Or I could eat you. You cheater." He giggled. "Oh, I'm proud of you. Always using your brain."

Fingon blushed, burying his face against Maedhros’ shoulder to muffle the noises he couldn’t entirely stop. Feels good. Maedhros body against was incredible, and he was filled with his husband’s love and, yes, pride. He tried to wrap his fëa around the feeling and hold it. “Not cheating-- just being creative,” Fingon informed him. He sighed, hands trailing up and down Maedhros’ back before sliding lower, past the change in his skin and over his rear to pull them closer together. “We should head back to the stream,” he whispered. “If we don’t go now, I’m not sure we will at all.”

Russ kissed Fin and released his hold on him. With a few strong pumps of his tail he sent them back to shore, back toward the stream, where the water was warmer. "Fin, I want you. I need you."

“I know,” Fingon whispered. He leaned forward again to brush their mouths together. “You are mine. I want you. I need you. I am yours.” They found their way to the fork in the stream where Russ and Finn had made love in their stories. “Would you welcome me inside of you?” He shook his head, dislodging water, and curled his tail around Maedhros as they half-floated in the stream. “First… first I wish to coax you out, to feel you curl around my hand. Then I’d like to sink into you until it feels like we’re merging into one being. I’ll kiss you and love you and gentle you. I’ll let you rest, held safe in my arms. Does my plan suit you?”

Russ' breath hitched, and he nodded. "Y-yes, I would like that--it does." He smiled and kissed Fin's neck. "You won the race, it's only fair you should have the spoils."

“We’ll share them, if that’s alright.” He shivered at Maedhros’ touch. “Though I may have to have some of them first. Ammoina, I want to taste you.” He slid down Maedhros’ body, no longer needing to worry about breathing underwater. Hands playing against Maedhros’ hips he found his slit, gently running his tongue along it and trying to entice out the merelda’s arousal.

"Ah! Ah, Fin!" he shuddered, tail jerking. "Wait--pl-please, until we--" I can't swim like this! Finno! He began to sink, and gasped, forgetting that he could breathe underwater as his fingers tangled in his beloved's hair.

Do you want me to stop? Fingon hesitated momentarily. Telperion? Laurelin? Tell me again and I’ll stop immediately, I promise. His fingers tightened on Maedhros’ hips. Won’t hurt you. Never hurt you. I love you, Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol. Maedhros only tugged at his hair, and Fingon went back to work urging his arousal free. They settled, suspended in the water, as he guided his husband into his mouth.

"N-no," Maedhros said. "Don't stop. Never stop--ahh!" he cried as Fingon took him in his mouth, and he moved his sex, teasing the inside of Fin's mouth. He shuddered. It felt glorious! He brushed Fingon's cheeks with his thumbs, and his tail curled around behind Fingon, drawing him in.

“Mmmm!” Different. Perfect. Love this. Love you. Fingon swallowed him down willingly, his own tail thrashing in surprise and pleasure as Maedhros’ moved within him. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? How this- how this feels? How much? Fingon gave up on words and threw open their bond further--their dream bond, since they were using their bond already to share a dream? He set the idea aside to consider at a later time. Swallowing around Maedhros, Fingon gently questioned whether he should bring him to release now or wait until they were joined together.

When you're in me--please--please, Maedhros gasped, dizzy with desire but wanting, needing their total union. Please? He opened the bond, escaping into the safety of Fingon, only to let him know what he was feeling, how this was bliss, how he wanted this. Oh, Findekáno, please! he cried, bubbles escaping from his lips.

Anything, Fingon thought fervently. With a last, lingering lick he released Maedhros, scooting up his body. “As I recall, mereldar are… rather built for this. You might just welcome me in…” He kissed Maedhros, lowering one hand to probe gently at the second opening in his skin. “Want to… ah… convince me to come out and play while we get you ready?” He was blushing again, but Maedhros seemed to like it so did not bother to attempt to control or hide the response.

Russ nodded, crashing his lips against Fingon's mouth and kept his tail around Fingon's waist. His fingers trailed down until he was pressing at Fingon's slit, rubbing around the entrance and pressing gingerly inside. "Oh, please, Fin, I need you. Will you--will you fuck me? Want you in me. Want you to make me yours, Finno."

"Yes. Mine, promise." Fingon shivered against his husband, whimpering. He already needed Maedhros desperately, and with minimal coaxing his arousal found its way out, curling around Maedhros' hand before moving to entwine with his husband's need. "I could stay here for years just exploring and spending time with you. This is... this is incredible, Russ." He had already slipped two fingers into Maedhros, and after a third he pulled back to kiss his husband. "Are you ready? I would have thee."

Maedhros nodded, gasping, desperate, tail flicking impatiently. "Please. Please, Fin," he begged, kissing him over and over.

I’ve got you, Fingon thought, rubbing his free hand in large circles around Maedhros’ back. “I won’t even tease you, much. I just want to join with you. He gently worked his fingers free, and detangled their arousals, sliding down to tease at his husband’s entrance. “So open for me. Wet and ready and… mine. You’re mine, love.” His arousal traced along Maedhros’ slit, pressing against it without entering. “Want to be inside you.” With a gentle, deceptively chaste kiss he began to slide into Maedhros. His arousal moved against his fellow merelda curiously, exploring and searching for a spot that would make his husband sing.

"OH!" Maedhros cried, head snapping back as his fingers dug into Fin's flesh desperately. "Oh, Fin, you--yes! Yes please, oh--!" He bucked shallowly, but he wanted this contact so very much, he needed it. He wound their tails together, pressing hard. "Please please please!"

Fingon pressed back, leaving a trail of kisses and bruises along Maedhros’ neck before he reached his husband’s lips. “Anything for you. Everything, my one, my only, my Russandol.” Glancing over Maedhros’ shoulder, he grinned. Their movements were shifting them around, sending them tumbling in the water. “Ready?” He shifted and pressed the rest of the way inside, tapping out ‘I love you’ repeatedly against the spot within Maedhros that made the mereldar thrash and moan.

"Ah!" Maedhros cried, bucking and whimpering. "Yes, Fin, Fin, like that! Oh, to have you inside me--Fin, harder, please." He wanted his legs back so he could have another limb with which to pull Fin into him. "I love you. I love you. You feel so good!"

“Love you too. You’re incredible, darling. Feel amazing.” After thrusting in roughly, Fingon caught his husband’s hips and held him close. “I won’t even have to move, will I?” He watched Maedhros smugly, turning and circling and wriggling within him. “Ammoina, you are perfect! And I fear I shall never be the same. Feels so good to be inside you. So good to join you… your thoughts--may I? Would you like to share? You’re welcome to mine.”

"Oh fffuuuuck," Maedhros said, limbs and fëa falling limp and open. "Please. Yours." He wound his sex loosely about the base of Fingon's, tried nudging inside but the angle was all wrong and anyway he didn't know which was was up. He let Fin feel the warm rolling red waves of bliss--on the edge frustration--were they really doing this outside their dream? Was he really on the verge of orgasm or was it just in his head?--and welcomed him, holding him. Love you. Need you.

Fingon held Maedhros to him, sighing with pleasure. “Need you more than anything, my light.” He began to thrust again, slowly speeding up his movements. Slipping a hand between them he curled it around Maedhros’ arousal, gently squeezing and teasing him. He didn't want to wake up, didn't ever want to lose this. Focusing on his tail and changed form, and on merelda Russandol looking up at him, beams of Treelight striking his face, Fingon let go and allowed his body to quickly carry them closer to the edge. Love you.

Maedhros, deciding he was useless, overwhelmed with bliss as he was, could do nothing but throw himself wide for Fin to feel. It was warm here, but he was floating (actually floating) and Fingon's arms were solid and strong. Their tails intertwined, their sexes brushing against each other, and the ache of being full and stretched without any pain all conspired to wipe Maedhros' mind of anything but the lust of being totally in love.

And then his vision went white, and his release filled the water around him and then washed down the current. Maedhros, after his body went rigid, went loose and limp, full and heavy with Fingon's seed and deciding he never needed to move again. He was surprised by how bendy he was in this merelda form, and how totally relaxed he was. "Ah, Fin," he said, gills working as he gasped.

"My Russ." Fingon kissed his shoulder, his neck, his cheek. "Perfect Russandol. I've missed you so terribly. I'm so glad we're home." He resisted moving for several minutes until they began to retract into themselves and he brushed his knuckles against Maedhros before his slit closed. "Was that... everything you had imagined for two mereldar? Thank you for trying on a tail and gills--swimming with you was fun. Racing you was exhilarating. Joining with you was... sacred."

Maedhros nodded, still catching his breath as he found the strength to wrap his arms around Fingon's neck. "That was--perfection. Fin, don't let go of me," he whispered. He kissed Fingon's jawline. "I want to be like this forever, Fin. You feel so good. I like having a tail like you."

"Mhmm. I'll hold you if you hold me. Promise." Fingon shifted lazily, feeling relaxed and too comfortable to move a great deal. "Forever sounds good, vennonya. I suppose we'll eventually have to deal with being Eldar again, but I shall stay with you as long as you will have me. And... and I like the idea of coming back here sometimes. This is nice. And I want to explore all of it with you!" He grinned at Maedhros, stealing a kiss. "Oh! and we need to try out their tilting, half water bed--I'd like to see if it's as comfortable as what we wrote."

"Yes," Russ answered. "This is a beautiful place--but everywhere is beautiful with you in." They sank to the bottom, the water rushing over them like a gentle massage, and lay in each others arms for a long time. When he woke, Maedhros found himself on the top of the cliff, resting on top of Fingon. It was morning again, and he laughed, surprised, but not really surprised, that they had slept so long.

Fingon woke to the sound of laughter like the pure ringing of Ulmo's music as a mountain stream raced down from the heights. He smiled, opening his eyes to the sight of his husband, happy and care free. "Mara tuilë, arimeldanya. I love thee." He leaned up, brushing their lips together before falling back. "Thank you. Love you. That was... the most perfect night's rest I've had in a very long time."

"Thank you," Maedhros said. For sleeping. For going there with me. For feeling safe enough with me. He smiled and shifted against Fingon, only to discoverer a sticky mess between them. "Oh!" He said, blushing. "Looks like we--" he coughed, and laughed again.

"That was a _very_ good dream,” Fingon said with a grin. “Mmm. I don’t mind waking up sticky as long as I’m with you. Though we will need to get to a stream to wash out the sheets.” He shrugged, reaching up to run hand through Maedhros’ hair and pull him down for a longer kiss. And thank you. I’m very glad to be here with you. And you’ve always made me feel safe. And very happy.

Maedhros relished in the kiss. "Ah, Finno," he whispered. "You are my safe place and my happiness and home to me. I love thee." He sat up. "But, er, yes. Now I'm rather regretting not being by our lake." He laughed, trying to clean himself and Fingon of the half-dried proof of their pleasure.

"'s fine." Fingon rolled them so that he was above Maedhros and he leaned down, brushing their noses together. "The little things-- the uncomfortable sticky moments and need for breath leaves and salty aftermath of a sweaty night just make everything _feel_ real. It reminds me that this isn't a dream-- that you're here and that I am more blessed than I dared hoped to be. We're home, and everything is well. I wouldn't change it for the world." He leaned down again, skin stretching uncomfortably where he was sticky. "Though I wouldn't be adverse to the lake or the hot springs being our next destination."

"Agreed," Maedhros said, wiping himself down with his socks and then dressing in his clothes (Fingon's clothes, he didn't have any clothes). "And then--then maybe we could go home?" He wasn't afraid of the idea anymore, and he wanted clothes that fit and he desperately wanted to cook for Fingon, to see his cheeks full and healthy.

"To the house?" Fingon nodded agreeably, willing to go anywhere Maedhros wished. "I haven't been back in a while... it would be nice. And I'm sure the horses would enjoy the trip." He slowly dressed, stretching and wincing a little as his body complained about last night's activities. "You don't mind a slow start down, do you?"

"Not at all," Maedhros said. "In fact--in fact, sorry--you take those clothes back off and lie down. Could I give you a massage?" He smiled, kissing Fingon back down. "And we should eat our breakfast before we take our bath."

"Careful, my beloved, for I'm in a mood to do whatever you ask of me." Removing his top and then his boots and trousers, Fingon let out a small huff of breath before settling on his stomach. "Mmm. Make me feel loose and relaxed, please. And then we can climb down before lunch and start back towards the house after that."

Maedhros chuckled as he began to rub his shoulders (it wasn't fair, surely, for massaging Fingon was like massaging a puppy, where he was all tough flesh and knots, but he wasn't complaining). "Would you hop on one foot and sing a silly song if I asked?" He kissed Fingon's neck, moving his hands down his arms. "I would love to laugh."

“Right now or-- ah! That feels _perfect_ Russ-- or after you finish? Right now I’d be happy to stay right here. But if you ask… well, perhaps you should just ask, now or later. And then you’ll find out.” He moaned as Maedhros’ hands kneaded him perfectly, though, unfortunately, nothing could cure some of his soreness but time. Your hands are amazing. And your lips. Thank you. A thought occurring to him, he giggled. “Have I mentioned this morning how much I love you?” It had become something of a game, as he asked his cousin, betrothed, husband that each morning (or afternoon on the rare occasion that they slept very late).

Maedhros chuckled. "Yes, you have, but you may say it again," he replied, as was customary. Already they were falling into their old roles, and Maedhros was supremely happy. "Harder or softer?" he asked as he pressed and squeezed at Fingon's back and shoulders.

“Mmm. Feels wonderful. A little harder, perhaps, while you’re working on my shoulders?” Fingon smiled at his husband’s happiness, running through their bond to fill his fëa. “I’ll say it again and again for you. I love you, Russandol. I love you, my dearest prince, and I always shall.”

Maedhros smiled gently, the smile seeping into his fëa and across their bond. "And I love you, my treasure and my light," he said. "And I always shall. But hush, let me spoil you," he whispered, and continued to rub down all his limbs until he was thoroughly cared for and they were both hungry.

Fingon's eyes opened as someone's stomach rumbled, and he laughed from where he lay splayed on the bedroll. "Hungry? Or was that me?" It didn't matter; they both needed to eat. And with Maedhros here he found that he _wanted_ to eat. Fingon continued to speak, though he did not yet move from where he lay, relaxed and with skin still tingling where Maedhros' hands had touched it. "I can help with breakfast if you like. I imagine we've both worked up quite an appetite!"

Maedhros snorted. "No you just stay there. Roll to your side and then sit up. Sorry we don't have much more than berries for breakfast. When we're home I'll make you the finest supper we've ever had." He kissed Fingon as he sat up, and handed him water and the pouch of berries.

"I look forward to it. I look forward to all of today-- walking together and swimming together and riding together. I'll sit on the counter at home and work on greens or on whatever you need while you cook. And I'll cover the bathwater with hundreds of floating petals before we wash off for the evening." He grinned at Maedhros, though it almost turned to a frown as he tried to remember the state the house was in. Everything had been clean when he left, he thought. But there had been a few times when he had, while visiting, given in to a fit of despair and impotent rage at being there- in _their_ house- alone and with no knowing when, or if, he would be reunited with his husband and with his family. But Maedhros was looking at him with concern, so he ate a few berries before handing the pouch to him and taking a long drink.

"I look forward to the rest of our lives," Maedhros said, holding a berry gently between his lips and pressing it and a kiss to Fingon's mouth. "And I relish in this moment, and every moment between us." He grinned and kissed Fingon again.

"Mmm-- spoiling me again. Berries never taste as sweet as they do when given by you with a kiss." He smiled, grabbing another berry between his index and middle finger and positioning it between his lips. Kiss me, beloved? If I may use your idea."


End file.
